


Another Unexpected Party

by lindajenner



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Everybody Lives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 18:43:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8856625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindajenner/pseuds/lindajenner
Summary: In the cold of the mountain a breath of air condenses as it leaves Thorin's body... 3 Days after BoFA Thorin, Fili and Kili are to be buried in the mountain when Dawlin sees something impossible.





	1. The Crypt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minor Edits on re-reading.

**The Crypt**

Dwalin bowed his head.  
Saying goodbye to Thorin, Fíli and Kíli was one thing, but watching as they were placed in their sarcophagus’ was harder. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Thorin’s face. The face of his king. He drew in a breath to salute Thorin, when he froze.  
“Wait!” Was he seeing things? “Balin?! I-”, he said nothing more, but stalked over to stand beside Thorin, his hand reaching out towards Thorin's face.  
“Dwalin, it is time. We have to let them-“  
“Stop! Balin! Get Oín! Now!” Dwalin turned to the other dwarves moving the bodies of Fili and Kili. “Don’t move!” he snarled.  
“Dwalin! What-”  
“Now, Balin. NOW!” He roared.  
Balin took one look at Dwalin’s face and ran. Minutes later he returned with Oín to the chamber where Fíli, Kíli and Thorin now rested on top of the sarcophagus’ they were to be interred inside of. The six dwarves whose task it was to move the bodies and close the crypt were standing silently to one side of the chamber, the blank stares on their faces made Balin scared. More scared than the fact that his brother was loosing his mind.  
Oín stepped closer to Dwalin while Balin waited at the door to the chamber. Whatever Dwalin said to Oín made him jerk and hurry over the body of Thorin, his bulk blocking Balin’s sight of the fallen king. His hands moved and he pulled something from a pocket of his cloak, he stood quietly for a moment and no-one moved. Oín jerked again and bolted around Thorin to stand beside Fíli, he stood over Fíli for a few seconds before going to Kíli and hovering over him.  
Oin jerked and stumbled back from the bodies laying on the sarcophagus’ and turned to Balin.  
“Get Dáin. NOW!” There was fear and anger in his voice.  
Balin ran. What was happening? Balin had already interrupted Dáin once when he fetched Oín for Dwalin, obviously doing this had aroused Dáin’s curiosity as he was only a few turns away. Seeing the look on Balin’s face made Dáin hurry towards him.  
“What is it?” Dáin asked.  
“I don’t know.” Balin replied. “But Dwalin is angry and Oin is scared.” The two dwarves hurried back down the brightly lit corridor to the crypt. They reached the door to the crypt where the bodies lay, all six of the dwarves from inside, now standing guard on the door. They ushered Dáin inside but one laid a hand on Balin’s arm and shook his head. Balin craned his neck to look after Dáin but another dwarf stepped between them. He heard Oín talking to Dáin for a few minutes, the sounds muffled. He could make out some of the words but not enough to follow the conversation.  
Grievous. Thranduil. Gandalf. Raven. Fetch. Cold. Loss. Thranduil (again). Time.  
Then Dwalin was striding away from Oín and Dáin.  
“I’ll fetch him myself.” Dwalin called back over his shoulder as he pushed through the doorway.  
“Hurry, Dwalin.” Replied Dáin. With a wave of his hand to acknowledge the directive, Dwalin broke into a run. Balin ran after him.  
“Dwalin?”  
“No time, brother, no time to speak. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Dwalin was so focused on his task, whatever it was, that he failed to see that Balin wasn’t able to keep up with him.  
“Master Balin!” the call came from back the way they had came. “King Dáin requires your attendance.”  
“Yes. Of course.” Maybe Dáin would answer a few questions for him.  
Unfortunately for Balin, all Dáin gave him were instructions.  
“Balin. Go to the audience chamber, meet with the petitioners, do your best. I will endorse your decisions. Today you speak for Erebor. Go.”

For the remainder of the day, Balin dealt with matters brought to the throne of the King Under the Mountain. Dwarves brought him food and drink whenever there was a lull in proceedings, but he spent the entire day none the wiser about why he was given this task. When audiences finished late in the evening, one of Dain’s household staff informed him that King Dáin would meet with him on the morrow for breakfast, that for now he would be wise to seek his bed. Balin tossed and turned before falling into a restless sleep, only to be woken before first light by Dwalin stumbling into his room.  
“Balin.”  
“Wha- Dwalin? What is it? What happened?” Balin was so tired he could barely think straight.  
“Their alive, Balin.”  
“Alive? Who’s alive? Dwalin. Please, brother. Who-“  
“Thorin. Fíli. Kíli. They are alive.”  
“Dwalin. Please, let it go. Let them rest. We-“  
“No! I saw breath leave Thorin’s body, Oín tested them. Their heartbeat and breathing are so slow we missed it. Dáin agreed, so I went to fetch Thranduil. We returned about 3 hours ago, he is still working on the boys, but Thorin is stable. I saw Thorin open his EYES. They are ALIVE!”  
“Oh, Mahal. What do we do now?”  
“Nothing, brother. Thranduil has sent ravens to Lord Elrond and the Lady Galadriel. He says that Kíli should wake in a day or two, but Fíli needs more healing than he can provide, he’s asked the Eagles to bring Elrond and Galadriel here. He also says that until they are all awake we should tell no-one, no-one at all. Not even the Company. There is a possibility that being so close to death for so long that they may not retain their minds when they awaken. Dáin is not pleased, he wanted to declare Thorin alive, but Thranduil says if he has no mind he cannot be king. We must wait. Oín will assist Thranduil until the Elves arrive and then he will remain at their side as go between. At least Oín’s given up on the pretence of that stupid hearing horn. Dáin will join you at breakfast and then he will resume his duties as King Under the Mountain.” Dwalin slumped on an armchair.  
“Alive? Alive!... How long do you think before the other elves arrive? Dwalin? Dwalin?” There was no answer from the sleeping dwarf.  
“Oh, Mahal. What about Bilbo?”  
There was no way that Balin was going to get any more sleep, so he washed dressed and after asking a guard to inform King Dáin that he was awake, he ordered a large breakfast for three dwarves and started making notes of his questions and the possible repercussions of bringing a king back from the dead.  
The end of the day had Kíli and Thorin stable and the four healers in agreeance that all three patients would be better situated in Thranduil’s Halls of Healing. Balin was shocked that Dwalin agreed and even more shocked that he volunteered to go too.  
But still nothing was to be said outside the six dwarves from the crypt and Oín, Balin, Dwalin and Dáin. Nothing was to be said to the Company.


	2. The Halls of Healing

**The Healing Halls of the Woodland King**

Two days had passed since the dwarves had arrived in Healing Halls of the Woodland King. For most of those two days Thranduil, Elrond and Galadriel worked tirelessly on Fíli, his injuries from impalement caused great alarm initially, before Galadriel expressed relief that the weapon Azog the Defiler had used, had missed all his major organs. His condition now determined as blood loss and possible infection as well as the shock of the injury itself and then the subsequent fall and impact. Two days that Dwalin stood and watched as elves worked to save a dwarf. Two days where he did as elves bid him do, and did so willingly.  
The three elves had only in the last hour declared Fíli stable, they predicted that it would be many hours perhaps even the next day before he would stir. Meanwhile they waited patiently for Thorin and Kíli to wake. Thorin had not opened his eyes after his initial response to Thranduil in the crypt under Erebor.  
Kíli was the first to respond, gripping Tauriel’s hand tighter on request even if he had yet to open his eyes. He ignored requests from the healers but responded clearly to any voiced by Tauriel. Her voice seemed to calm him and so Galadriel suggested she continue to talk to him. This meant that the chances of Kíli retaining his mind were improving by the hour.  
Thorin however remained as still and unresponsive as ever. Dwalin was the one to notice the twitching of Thorin’s fingers as they lay on the delicate elven blankets.  
“Thranduil. Thorin moves.” Dwalin called softly to the group of healers where Oín and the three elves stood huddled near a table covered in herbs, potions and balms with their assistants.  
Thranduil and Galadriel hurried to the fallen king’s bedside. Galadriel placed her hand on his forehead and spoke softly in Quenya, the language of the High Elves. It only took a few moments before a response was visible with Thorin opening his eyes and looking at the Lady of The Galadhrim in wonder.  
Thorin awoke to hear Tauriel singing to Kili who slept peacefully. It took him a few minutes to realise he had no idea where he was, mostly because he was distracted by the beautiful she-elf leaning over him, he had never seen the like of her before, she glowed with peace and goodwill.  
“Wh…?” his throat hurt and his voice sounded like the rumble of gravel.  
**_‘Rest at ease, Thorin Oakenshield, you are in the Halls of Healing in the Woodland Realm. You were brought here for healing at the request of Dwalin, son of Fundin and Thranduil, son of Oropher. Your nephews, the Golden Lion and the Black Fox, are with you still. Turn your head to your right and you will see them, both breathe and will survive their injuries’_**  
Thorin’s eyes widened, he could hear her voice in his head! For a few moments he did nothing but stare at her, then slowly his head turned on the pillow and his eyes feasted on his nephews, taking note of the rise and fall of their chests and the pristine white bandages that covered so much of their bodies. He saw Fíli closest to him, pale and still, but in even the few moments that he rested his eyes on his nephew he saw a blush of colour start to bloom on Fíli’s cheeks. Kíli lay on the far side of him with Tauriel at his side. The she-elf seemed calm and was focused on only Kíli.  
A hand holding a mug of water came into Thorin’s line of sight and he turned his head back to the pale elf, she lifted his head and held the mug to his lips, allowing blessedly sweet water to trickle into his mouth.  
“You, all three will recover well from your injuries and should sustain no lasting ill-effects. Your healer Oín and myself would request you remain here in these Halls of Healing for a few more days, even given the durability and the speed of dwarrow healing it would be well not to travel yet. Your guard Dwalin in conference with Thranduil and Elrond have reached the decision that you should have a month or more of healing in a place of peace and sanctuary, they all feel that these Halls are tainted with bitter memories and are too close in time and distance to the fighting and suffering. Elrond offered Rivendell, however Thranduil and I feel that crossing the Misty Mountains with the Lion in his current condition is to risk his life unnecessarily. Healer Oín has suggested the House of Beorn, north of the Old Forest Road. He has suggested we send an emissary to Beorn to ask of his willingness to help, Dwalin will not leave your side so wishes to send a raven to fetch his brother to act as your voice. He will travel along with Elrohir and Elladan, sons of Elrond, son of Eärendil.” How is it Galadriel’s voice sounded no different to his ears than it did in his mind?  
It took a bit for Thorin to clear his throat and make his voice work again.  
“Yes, Beorn’s house was a haven to the Company. I would have Balin stop here on his way, so that we may make alternate plans if Beorn cannot help. I would have the Company-“  
“Rest, Thorin. You can discuss much with Balin when he arrives. For now rest and heal. Your nephews need you whole again.”  
“But Bilbo-“  
“Rest.” Galadriel slid her hand over Thorin’s eyes and they closed. “He will sleep the sleep of healing now.”  
Dwalin twisted his hands. “I don’t know what to do about Bilbo. We decided not to tell the company, but Bilbo is more than just Company. Dís. What about Dís, she is Thorin’s sister and the mother of the boys?”  
“Make no hasty judgements, Dwalin. Balin will be here in a few days and all these matters can be talked about then. Bilbo has headed back to Rivendell with Gandalf the Grey and getting a message to him before Rivendell will be nigh on impossible. Gwaihir, Lord of the Eagles is to return for me, I will wait until you meet with Balin, then if a message is to be sent to Bilbo, I am sure that Gwaihir will oblige me by sending one of his folk to return Elrond to Rivendell. As for the lady Dís, Dáin will wait for word from Thorin before allowing any messages to be sent to the Blue Hills. For now, send your raven and give these three the time to begin their recovery.”


	3. The Letters Begin

**The Letters Begin**

Dís looked at the messenger before taking the envelope, this letter would change her life, in one way or another.

**_To the Lady Dís,_ **   
**_Daughter of Thráin, Son of Thrór, Princess of the Line of Durin._**

**_From Dáin Ironfoot,_ **   
**_Son of Náin, Son of Grór, King Under The Mountain._**

Dís looked at the front of the envelope again. Unless she was much mistaken the handwriting was that of her brother but the return address was Dáin, King Under the Mountain. She hastily opened the letter and no, she was not mistaken, for within the first line was what her brothers, Thorin and Frerin, called her when trying to placate her temper.

**_Dearest Dís,_ **   
**_This is written buy my own hand and you should know my hand, sweet raven Dís._**   
**_Dáin, is King Under the Mountain and has declared Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli the Aurum Lion and Kíli the Fox Nero to have fallen in Battle at the Gates of Erebor._**   
**_You must abide by this, sweet raven, I beg of you. Declare the Halls of the Blue Hills in mourning. Your sons and brother are dead._**   
**_On a lighter note, the two crickets from ‘The Uncle’s Forge’ are with me still. Their injuries are severe but they will recover well. I have taken the action I have due to one thing. While dwarrows would accept me to my seat, but they would in no way accept my One to sit beside me and I could not bear to sit there without him. I offered that same seat to the first of the crickets but he stated that as his brother’s One would not be accepted either, he would not accept the seat. In his own words. “If our people will not accept the One’s of our family neither then they will accept me, as I support the One’s of my kin.” Typical of him, isn’t it?_**   
**_The three of us are currently residing in the Healing Halls of the Woodland King, I and my kin are welcome guests of elves, sweet Dis. Elves! We will leave here later today to travel to the House of Beorn, a shape-shifter of our acquaintance, his place is east of the Misty Mountains but still west of Mirkwood not that distant form the Old Forest Road. We are expected by him to stay for a few weeks, to aid our recovery and it is there we will be met by the remains of our travelling party, I know not how they will take our condition but am assured by my old friend and his brother that they will be pleased. From there I plan to travel west past Bree, to where my One calls home. Both crickets and the younger cricket’s One insist on coming with me and are planning our journey as I write. She is strong willed and will keep him line, you will like her. I find I do._**   
**_Mourn your brother and sons, sweet raven, but do not mourn me or the crickets. This raven will be travelling with us and will return to me with you thoughts._**   
**_I am and always will be_**   
**_Your Thundercloud._**

Dís took a deep breathe before raising her head to meet the eyes of the guards.  
“The Halls are to be Mourning Cloaked. Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli my Aurum Lion and my Fox Nero Kíli are dead in Battle before the Gates of Erebor.” She turned and headed for her office, before stopping and turning again to the messenger. “Bring the raven to me. The one who bore this letter. No other.”  
In her office Dís sank into her chair and leant forward resting her head in her hands. To the observer she looked a dwarrowdam grieving her sons and brother, but in truth all she felt was relief. Relief that they were alive.  
Hours later in her own rooms Dís read the letter again. Thorin had crammed a lot of information onto one piece of parchment and as she re-read it more things became clear while at the same time questions were raised.

1 Thorin, Fíli and Kíli were alive (thundercloud = Thorin, the crickets are Fíli and Kíli)  
2 They had serious injuries that were healing.  
3 They were in the hall of the elf-king.  
4 Thorin and Fíli were abdicating. Or, well, being delcared dead meant they avoided the necessity of abdicating.  
5 Thorin and Kíli had found their Ones.  
6 They were well enough to travel a short(-ish) distance but not enough to cross the Misty Mountains yet.  
7 There was somewhere that Thorin felt safe enough to spend the weeks of his recovery.  
8 The Company had no idea the three were alive.  
9 Thorin’s One was a male.  
10 If Thorin’s One lived west of Bree then they were a likely to be a hobbit as there were few Men there and no dwarrow from the Blue Mountains had left yet for Erebor. Perhaps it was the hobbit from the Company. At least Hobbits were almost the right height.  
11 Thorin’s One may not know of his current condition or even if he’s alive.  
12 Kíli’s One was female.  
13 Kíli’s One would not be a dwarrowdam or Fíli would not say they would not be accepted by other dwarrow, possibly a woman from Lake Town, but as they are in the Elven Healing Halls, the One is just as likely to be an elf. Only Kíli would have an elf for his One.  
14 Is she a runaway or does she have permission from her family to travel with the Company?  
15 Thorin and Fíli have accepted Kíli’s One just as Fíli and Kíli have accepted Thorin’s One.  
16 Kíli, his One and Fíli are already plotting. May Mahal help us all.  
17 The three of them planned to travel west to the shire, so she will be able to travel to see them eventually. Maybe for the weddings.  
18 Where do they stand as far as the Courting Formalities?  
19 Dain, Dwalin and Balin know all of this.  
Now all she had to do was reply and wait. Wait to hear what was going to happen next.

   
**_To The Dwarroven Thundercloud_**  
 **_The House of Beorn_**

**_From Dís,_ **   
**_Daughter of Thráin, Son of Thrór, Princess of the Line of Durin._**

**_Oh My Dearest Thundercloud, how I miss you and those crickets. To know they will chirp again gives me such joy, considering how you almost got them killed, you blundering idiot! I assure you that their mother is overjoyed at the news._ **   
**_The Halls are Mourning Cloaked and its blasted boring here as a result. The latest gossip floating about is that Dís, sister to the fallen Thorin Oakenshield has a secret admirer who writes her sweet letters._**   
**_Don’t laugh when I tell you that the only letter I have received in the last week is yours. I have to bite the inside of my cheek every time I hear the simpering giggle of the young dwarrowdams._**   
**_Give those crickets a smack upside the head for frightening their mother by nearly dying, they know better than that. As for you. You can expect their mother’s wrath when you next see her._**   
**_Tell me more about these Ones. Yours is a Hobbit? Do you plan to tell him of your condition? How will he react do you think? What of that cricket’s One? You say that she will not be accepted by dwarrows. What of her people, will they accept the cricket? Will she be permitted to travel with your party? Have Courting Formalities started? Has that cricket at least requested permission to Court her? Please tell me he has._**   
**_I must stop now or I will be writing all night and if I do that poor bird won’t be able to carry my reply. And for Mahal’s sake tell those crickets that I expect them to write to their mother!_**   
**_I wait your next writing with baited breathe._**   
**_Dís_**

Thorin laughed and tossed the parchment to Tauriel as she walked passed and said, “Give that to the lads, would you, Tauriel? Oh, and be prepared for the groaning.”  
“Of course, Thorin. Beorn tells me that the wagons carrying the rest of your Company have been spotted, they should be here in about 2 hours. Have you thought any further on how you plan to greet them?”  
“Dwalin and Balin believe that the best option is to be where they can see us well before they reach the House. Fíli thinks we should hide around the corner of the building and Kíli wants to wait until they’ve eaten and are starting to drink.”  
Tauriel laughed and replied, “They would. The Lion wants to stalk and my Fox wants to play. Dwalin and Balin are very practical, but you haven’t said what you want to do.”  
“I have no idea what I want, Tauriel. I personally like Kíli’s idea, but that’s not fair to the Company. So, I have told the lads that we will wait outside the gates for the wagons. We’ll keep an eye out and when we spot them we’ll head out front to wait where they can see us clearly. Also that gives the lads and I plenty of space if we need to run away from anyone.”  
Tauriel continued to laugh as she headed for the verandah where her One and his brother sat in the early afternoon sun, playing with Beorn’s chess set.  
Thorin sat up and looked to the south, soon the remaining dwarrows of his Company would arrive. How will they react to find their fallen King and Princes’ not dead?


	4. The Company Meets Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Na ítkít = be silent (for multiple people)

**The Company Meets Again**

Ori sat quietly beside Bifur on the driver’s seat of the fourth of the five wagons carrying the trunks that were the portion of the treasure of Erebor that was allotted to the members of the Company. In total the wagons carried forty trunks, a fortune by anyone’s measure. Daín had sent the larger fifth wagon along, they assumed that it held treasure trunks to go to Bilbo in addition to the travel supplies for their journey.  
Bofur rode in the first wagon, Dori and Nori in the second, Gloín in the third and Bombur drove the supply wagon. They would be meeting Balin and Dwalin at Beorn’s House, before crossing the Misty Mountains. All of them hoped that they would make the crossing before winter set in.  
An air of melancholy and sadness hung over their travelling party like a mist, leaving Ori feeling like he might weep at any time. Something that, prior to their arrival at Erebor, the Company would have teased and tormented him unmercifully about, but now the others would be just as likely to join him in a weeping session. Nothing so far had seemed to lift the fog of sadness.  
In a way they were all glad that, even though Daín had offered each of them a place, he had not encouraged their continued presence in the mountain. To hear that Dwalin had left the same day as Thorin and the Princes were interred in the mountain was a shock to the Company and lowered their spirits. Balin leaving less than a week later, lowered them even more so. This convinced the rest of the Company that Erebor was not the place for them. Daín asking them to see that Master Baggins received a share of the treasure he worked to free from the dragon, was a good excuse for their leaving.  
Even though Bilbo had insisted that his share of the treasure be traded to Bard for Arkenstöne, so the gold would be used for the rebuilding of Dale, Daín had sent him an unknown number of trunks, secured in the last wagon. Before the battle, curiosity would have driven someone, probably Nori, to have peeked under the canvass covering that wagon, but now there was little interest in gold and gems.  
The sight of Beorn’s House becoming visible through the trees was a welcome relief to the monotonous journey. A cry raised by Bofur up in front was taken up by the others to let Ori, Bifur and Bombur in the rear wagons know that they had almost reached the end of this day’s travel.  
A few minutes later another call was passed back through the wagons that people to welcome them had been sighted. As the wagons began to spread out a little, Ori could see the great height of Beorn the Shape-shifter standing beside two dark unknown elves. Balin and Dwalin leant against the fence near them, but there were other dwarrow standing there as well. As the wagons came ever closer, they made out the portly figure of Oín leaning on a tree stump, they that thought that Oín had remained in Erebor to supervise the Healing Halls, so to see him at Beorn’s House was startling. The other three dwarrow were not instantly recognised by the Company.  
Nori was the first to realise just who the unknown dwarrow were and with a curse was off the wagon and running at the three standing slightly off to one side.  
“You ishrêg kanud!” He screamed, jumping on the larger of the dwarrow, knocking him to the ground, ranting in Khuzdul about how the downed dwarf was a cheat, a scoundrel and many other things so rude that Ori should not have known what he was saying. The other two unknown dwarrow fell to the ground, rolling with laughter.  
“Who is that? Why would Nori call him a lying Orc?” Ori turned to ask Bifur, but Bifur wasn’t there to ask, he had leapt from the wagon and was kneeling on the ground in front of the two younger dwarrow, grabbing at them and pulling them to him, rocking and laughing.  
Poor Ori though he was loosing his mind when he saw the faces of those two dwarrow resting with their chins one on each of Bifur’s shoulders. Fíli and Kíli were dead. How could they be here? When Nori let the other dwarf sit up, Ori jumped from the wagon, too. It was Thorin!  
Within moments the entire Company were on the ground holding whatever body part of the three royals that they could reach. There was laughter, tears and no small amount of blue language directed at the resurrected dwarrow.  
It was Dwalin who called them all to attention. “Na ítkít!”* It took a few seconds for everyone to calm down and regain their feet. Typically it was Bofur who started the questions.  
“What happened? You are dead. You were dead. How are you here? How did you get here? Why didn’t you tell us? Wh-“  
Dwalin cut him off mid-word.  
“Stop!” Once they were silent, he told the Company an abbreviated version with promise to give them all the details later, but for now their wagons were wandering all over Beorn’s front pasture and wouldn’t it be a good idea to gather them all together?  
By later in the evening when sleep was starting to claim them, nearly all questions were anwered.  
The two dark elves were introduced as the Twins, Elladan and Elrohir, they were the sons of Elrond of Rivendell. Kíli and Tauriel’s Courtship, they were surprised to learn of; more surprised that both Thorin and Thranduil had given consent to it. There were no surprised faces at hearing that Thorin planned to Court Bilbo Baggins, but many were surprised that find Thorin had not sent word to Bilbo to tell him that Thorin still lived. It was Oín who said that Thranduil, of all people, had suggested that Bilbo may not believe a letter and that irrefutable proof may be needed. That Bilbo may not accept it unless the messenger had see this with their own eyes. In which case, what better messengers than the Company, in whom he held such trust?  
If the Company were to be the messengers, what better proof of Thorin’s life, then to have him and his nephews on hand. Especially has Thorin would not be returning to Erebor, if he could not rule with Bilbo at his side.  
They learned too, why Thranduil had not helped the refugees fleeing Smaug’s attack on Erebor, apparently he had turned away from Erebor to prepare a place for the dwarrow and when they didn’t come to his Halls as he thought they would, he was mightily insulted and thus began the feud of Thorin and Thranduil. Thranduil was shocked to learn that Thorin had thought him abandoning the refugees. Thorin was shocked that Thranduil had not planned to do so. It took many hours of stilted conversations and Thorin in a semi-drugged condition to hear him, before they agreed that they were both in the wrong and messages were sent to Daín to inform him of all that had been decided on. Not just between Thorin and Thranduil, but also what had been decided by Thorin, Fíli and Kíli, as regards the Throne of King Under the Mountain. Thorin also sent a request that Daín locate particular items Thorin had seen in the dragons' Hoard and forward them with Balin, if possible or if not with Balin, then with the rest of the Company when they travelled west to meet Dwalin and Balin.  
To cement goodwill between Thranduil and Thorin, Thranduil had told Thorin of a cave system not 3 miles from Hobbiton and Bag End, that while it was not large enough to support a Hall like that of the Blue Mountains, it would support a small outpost of miners and stone-masons. It had a small-ish seam of Mithril as well as silver and an array of precious gemstones. The quarry was split into two main areas, one to the west with quartz and another to the north where, in the past, granite had been mined.  
Thranduil also told Thorin of a site near Little Delving some 5 miles to the west of Hobbiton that had a larger cave system that had seams of gold and semi-precious stones, but granite was only quarry-able stone to be had. He gave Thorin maps and reports as well as samples from surveys undertaken.  
Thorin stated his intent to build a forge below Bag End on the banks of the Rushrock Water that flows from the low mountains of Emyn Uial south through Hobbiton and Bywater before it joins the Brandywine River. He had missed the simple pleasure of working in a forge.  
Thorin, Dwalin, Balin, Oín, Fíli, Kíli and Tauriel had spent the last few days pawing over the maps that Thranduil had provided Thorin and had made many notes. Those notes were added to that evening and the next day.  
Initially the Company would all stop with Bilbo at Bag End until they had approached the Shire’s Thain to get permission and to buy land and the cave systems. Once this had been done, Thorin and Fíli (due to the severity of his injuries) would stay at Bag End and the rest of the Company would head to the high hills on the north of Bindbole Wood. They would start by quarrying granite for building a decent Hall. At this point they all agreed that they needed to have accommodation for their families completed before they arrived. Once suitable dwelling structures were completed they could then start the process of building mines.  
The Woods would also give Tauriel a place to retreat to when stone overwhelmed her.  
Once fully recovered from his injuries Fíli would join Kíli at what the Company had tentatively decided to call Bindbole Hall and he could then send for Dís, if she wished to join them there. Only after Bindbole Hall was complete and producing would they decide if they would develop the system at Little Delving. With only semi-precious gems to mine and a small seam of gold, Delving Hall was deemed to be an afterthought and not as likely to be as financially viable a site as Bindbole Hall.  
All of this could come to naught without the support of Master Baggins of Bag End, but all present believed that Bilbo, once over the shock of having Thorin, Fíli and Kíli back from the dead, would be most amenable to their plans.  
The next morning they woke to the screeching cry of Gwaihir, Lord of the Eagles as he circled overhead. By the time all of them had dressed and found their way to the pasture, Gwaihir had landed and was chittering away to Beorn. Thorin, Fíli and Kíli were pleased to find that they understood the Eagle’s speech and Kíli offered to translate for the rest of the group.  
“Greetings, Thorin Oakenshield.” Said the Lord of the Eagles.  
“And to you Lord Gwaihir. Our thanks to you for our rescue out of the clutches of the Orcs and also for carrying the Lady Galadriel to our aid.” Thorin replied with a low bow.  
“Your thanks are not necessary but are appreciated, I will pass them along to those who assisted me. They are not why I am here, though.”  
“How may I and my Company of dwarrow assist you?”  
“You cannot. I am here to offer assistance to you. After negotiations with Daín, who sits Under the Mountain, it has been decided that in exchange for our assistance in repelling the army of Orcs and for transporting the Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond to the Halls of Thranduil, an Eyre will be built on the upper reaches of Erebor. The dwarrow under Daín’s command will start construction of platforms in the spring. In an offer of goodwill I am offering to transport you and your Company to Rivendell, where Lord Elrond has been informed that his elves have tracked down your ponies and he has also acquired wagons for your possessions. Lady Galadriel sends nets made from elven-rope so that my Eagles may carry you and your possessions without undue difficulties.”  
“My Lord. My thanks. The thanks of my Company. This is more than we even thought to dream of.” The relief Thorin felt at not having to traverse the Misty Mountains was enormous.  
“Elrond also informs me that if you continue to The Shire directly you will be there some weeks ahead of the Halfling. Elrond had taken his foster son Estel with him when he went to speak to the Thain of The Shire, to inform him that you have a contract with Master Baggins and as such have the right to occupy Bag End(?) until his return, but that you do not have the right to sell or change anything within it. Elrond agrees with Thranduil that Master Baggins will only accept your condition when you stand in front him, however he wishes to tell Gandalf the Grey, whom he believes will be pleased. My eagles and I will be here at first light tomorrow. For now, here are nets that you can use to secure what possessions you wish to take with you.” With this Gwaihir released a bundle wrapped in canvas from his talons.  
Thorin drew in a breath but before he could reply, the Eagle was airborne and pumping his wings hard. Thorin turned to the others and commented.  
“Well. It looks like we won’t need the wagons after all. Gwaihir, Lord of the Eagles is taking us to Rivendell. Tomorrow. We have to be ready by first light.”


	5. A Visit to Rivendell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added a few of Thorin's thoughts and a quick glimpse at Bilbo and Gandalf's journey.

**A Visit to Rivendell**

Laid out on the ground in front of Gwaihir were open nets, one with four trunks, one with three, one with two and thirteen with one trunk a piece.  
“-and that’s why we don’t have all the nets filled yet.” Thorin finished his explanation.  
“Interesting. I had not thought of this. I will test your theory before we depart.” With that Gwaihir hopped over to the only net to hold one trunk and be tied off. He settled his talons into the net and with great powerful down-beats of his strong wings, took off easily. He looped around and landed, releasing the net before hopping to the next net, with two trunks, doing the same with it before landing again. He did this with nets holding three and four trunks as well, but the last was done with great effort.  
“Getting off the ground with four trunks is difficult and for some of my Eagles may not be possible. The me think…”, he hummed and fluffed his feathers for a few minutes before calling to his Eagles, a smaller, lighter-coloured Eagle took flight and circled the pastures. “Beorn is there a way to hold the nets partially aloft? It is lifting the nets from the ground that is the issue mostly, if that can be avoided… swooping down and grasping the nets while still in flight as we do for animals and fish, would make it much easier to leave the embrace of the ground.”  
“There is”, and it took him only seconds to have a fine elven rope tied to the net and held high in the air by his bird friends. The Eagle in flight swooped down and as he/she(?) flew over the net talons opened and closed and the net was gone. It took a few seconds for Beorn’s birds to release the rope, but being birds they didn’t fall to the ground but instead flew back rest on the fence beside him, chirping and boasting their cleverness.  
“If Meneldor can reach soaring height with a full net, then we have a solution. I spy many trunks, Thorin Oakenshield but not a great deal of supplies. Why is this?” Gwaihir asked.  
“Travelling to Rivendell by pony and wagon we would require a large amount of supplies, but with your help we have a much shorter journey and have decided to leave a great deal of those supplies here with Beorn as we will not be needing nearly as much. Lord Elrond is a generous host and we have gifts for him from the dragon’s hoard, however meat is something that Rivendell is sadly lacking in. So we take as much of the cured and dried meat with as we can. We have little in the way of fresh meat and have only kept aside two meals of it and leave the rest of it for you, my Lord, and your Eagles. You are doing us a great service and we much rather your Eagles be well fed than lose the meat to rot. Tauriel has insisted that we also prepare and take with travel food for we have little idea of how long it will take for this flight. Most other supplies we brought with us we have left for Beorn’s use and in exchange he has given cunningly wrought barrels of honey, some for Lord Elrond and some to take on to Bilbo.” Thorin said, explaining why each net had a trunk on it as well as three beside it, in addition to this there were two small barrels standing with each group of trunks, three nets had no barrels but instead a number of smaller sacks. Off to one side a pile of travelling bags were haphazardly clumped.  
“Tauriel also suggested that because we do not know the duration of this trip and that we have not had the great fortune to be carried by Eagles much, that it would be safer for us all if there was a way to ensure that we stayed where you want us to stay. In accordance with this she and Kíli have spent some hours fashioning a type of harness to hold us. Kíli feels that to restrain your Eagles is not acceptable and between them, they came to this solution. A simple loop to go around the neck and breast of the Eagle, with a harness that goes around each person’s legs and waist, that is tied to the Eagle’s loop. In this way, even should we slide and fall, we not interfere with the Eagle’s wings and so not put them at risk, we would be held suspended above the nets below the Eagle’s breast.”  
“A wise solution, Captain Tauriel. This will work well and will be off little conflict for my Eagles. Ah, here returns Meneldor, let us see how difficult is was to achieve the height we need to clear the mountains.”  
The light-coloured Eagle glided down and came to a soft landing.  
“Well done, Meneldor. A fine landing.”  
“Thank you, my lord.”  
“Did you have difficulty in reaching height?”  
“Not really, lord. The first few strokes after catching the net were the most difficult, my primary flight pinions touched the ground and decreased my lift. The height of the net was, I feel, still a little too low. If there was a way to have it higher, on a platform perhaps… This would enable a stronger down-thrust and allow us to grasp the nets at full flight.”  
“We have not the time to build a platform from scratch. What about a tall pile of rocks with a few timber slabs on top? We could put this anywhere. The only problem could be getting the trunks up onto the slabs.” Beorn had spoken more this morning than he had for many days.  
“We will lift the trunks. Meneldor, go fetch another dozen Eagles, we will need respite along the way and my Eagles grow bored after the battle, I would rather keep them occupied if possible.” Gwaihir directed the smaller bird before turning to the dwarrow who were already moving to gather rocks and boulders.  
“Fíli, you supervise them. You can’t help either, lad, not yet, anyway. Kíli, with me. Beorn, do you have slabs that we might use? Kíli and I will help move them, we are not well enough yet to move boulders, not matter how much we might want it otherwise.”  
“Of course, Thorin. This way.” Beorn lead the two dwarrow around the side to his timber pile and workshop, where it took only seconds to select three large slabs of timbe that Beorn said were destined for tables. It took both Thorin and Kíli to lift one slab, their wounds reminding them that they were not yet healed, while the shape-shifter lifted another two slabs up high to his shoulders.   
“My Lord, Gwaihir. Where would be the best place, for your Eagles, for a us to put this platform?” Fíli approached Gwaihir.  
They moved off to the south of Beorn’s House before deciding on a space to make their ‘platform’. Less than an our later all the Eagles wore their loop and bore their passenger, just waiting for the last Eagle to swing down and collect the last net and then they were on their way.  
Thorin had no idea how the others felt on the flight, but Bofur had a fright when Meneldor, who was carrying him suffered a cramp in his/her (Thorin still didn’t know if the Eagle was male or female and it was rude to ask at this point) leg and talons and did a duck and spin manoeuvre to pass the net off on to another Eagle. Watching this happen Thorin’s heart was in his mouth in case Tauriel’s harness’ didn’t work, but there were no mishaps to be had. Some of the others weren’t aware that the transfer was an accidental incident and thought it a planned event as with in minutes Gwaihir ordered all Eagles to swap their nets with another, unburdened Eagle, to give all Eagles a respite from carrying both passenger and cargo.  
As they approached the edge of the Mountains, Thorin thought of his burglar walking the mountain paths below him. He had resisted the need to claim the hobbit as they had trekked, but had thought about how when Erebor was once again a part of the dwarf nations, he would Court Bilbo. It was Dáin that reminded him of the laws of Seven Fathers, of the Consort Law. No King could have a Consort not born to a dwarrowdam. This had changed Thorin and Kíli's mind towards the throne of the King Under The Mountain, they would not not rule without their One at their side. Fíli would not rule without his family and Tauriel in particular would never be welcome in the mountain, so they would all stay dead. Thorin and Kíli never gave real thought to returning to Erebor, not without their One's.  
  
Weeks before and far below in the mountains the two travellers had reached a familiar outcropping where the trees showed fire damage. The smaller of the two used his walking pole to poke around in the clumps of ash and weeds. His pole hit a solid surface and he bent over to scrape the ash away from the piece of hardened timber. Pulling his pack from his back he swiftly attached it and swung the pack over his shoulder. When he caught up to the other traveller nothing was said about the tears in his eyes or the addition to his pack.  
  
Time was distorted as the army of Eagles flew west-ward. The sun seemed to hang in the sky and Thorin was glad that the Eagles created their own breeze as they flew otherwise being in the sun for hours would have left them all burnt and suffering heat exhaustion. As it was it was close to sunset and quite cool as the Eagles approached Rivendell. Gwaihir was the first to land, the strongest of the Eagles was carrying Fíli, the most fragile of their Company. Bare minutes passed before the entire Company were safely on the ground and the Eagles back in the air. Gwaihir and his army would roost in the upper parts of the mountains surrounding Rivendell.  
For now while Thorin was very grateful to Gwaihir and his Eagles for their help, he was also very glad to be on bedrock again. Flying was not going to be the way he wanted to travel.  
“Thorin Oakenshield. Welcome to Rivendell again.”  
“Lord Elrond. Thank you for having us. It is good to be here.” Replied Thorin and he was slightly surprised to find that he actually did mean it. It was good to see a familiar place, one where people were smiling. He grinned at Elrond and continued. “We bring gifts, too. From Daín. From Thranduil. From Beorn. From us. And from the House of Durin. With our thanks.”  
“That can wait until you’ve had a chance to recover. Flying all the way from the Greenwood was not something I would want to do in a hurry again. Particularly recovering from injuries." Elrond shuddered delicately. "For now Lindir will show you to rooms you can use. When you’re ready, we would be pleased for you to join us for a meal.”  
“Thank you my lord. We have some meat and other produce to add to the meal, too.”  
“Nonsense, Thorin. Over the last week my archers have taken your coming as a chance to do a wildlife cull in the local area and risen to the challenge to hunt for your Company. We have ice to help keep your meat fresh for the journey ahead.” With that Elrond gestured to Lindir, nodded to Thorin and backed away.  
“My lord. This way if you please.” The dark haired elf may have been shorter than Lord Elrond but to the dwarrow, he was still very tall. He watched Tauriel and Kíli interact with Elladan and Elrohir, seeing how comfortable they all were with each other, he relaxed slightly as they made their way across the bridge from the pasture north-east of the settlement and into Rivendell proper.  
Lindir showed them to rooms that had furniture that must have been made specifically for dwarrow or Hobbits given the size, barring of course Tauriel who had a luxurious room with elf-sized furniture. Oín and Gloín were given one room, Bifur, Bofur and Bombur another, Dori, Nori and Ori a third. The next room was for Fíli and Kíli, with Dwalin and Balin taking the room between the princes and Thorin, who other than Tauriel was the only one to have a room to himself. He also gave them a map of Rivendell with directions to the dining area. Dwalin snorted and with a comment about Thorin getting lost again, closed the door to his and Balin’s room.  
Thorin dumped his bag and pack and stretched, wincing as his wounds still pulled tight. He saw a door towards the back of the room and upon investigating, found it to be a bathing area which he took pleasure in using. Feeling much more relaxed and comfortably clean, he changed clothes and started sorting through his pack for the gift he had brought for Elrond. Just as he pulled it from the pack there was a knock at his door.

He opened the door to find Prince Legolas, Thranduil’s son.


	6. A Gift of Honour

**A Gift of Honour**

“Prince Legolas.”  
“Thorin Oakenshield. My greetings. Lord Elrond told me you were here. Alive.I saw you fall to Azog. I needed to see this with my own eyes. To see you are alive is pleasing.” It was clear to see that Legolas was distressed, wether from seeing Thorin fall or from being told he was alive, didn’t matter. Thorin knew that Legolas had thrown Orcrist to save Thorin’s life even while his own was still at risk.  
“Please, Prince Legolas, call me Thorin. I owe you my thanks for sending Orcrist where I needed it, just when I needed it. I have something for you. Please come in.” He turned from the door, his back itching, but he owed Legolas the honour of showing he was trusted. He strode back to the pack he had just been digging through and pulled out another bundle, this he brought to where Legolas stood inside the door, near a group of arm chairs. He gestured for Legolas to sit, before handing the cloth wrapped bundle to him.  
Legolas sat gingerly. For the first time Thorin saw an elf uncertain of themself. Legolas looked, for lack of a better word, nervous. Had he never received a gift from someone, or had he never received one from someone who wasn’t an elf? He looked from Thorin to the gift and back to Thorin again, before starting to remove the fabric. It was obvious he had no idea what was inside the bundle that had been handed to him and that unsettled him.  
The awe and wonder on his face when he saw the matching pair of daggers was gratifying to Thorin, pleased he had asked Daín to find them. He’d seen the daggers as he’d been searching for the blasted Arkenstöne and when he was waiting to hear for Balin to arrive, he’d sent a raven to ask Daín to locate the daggers, knowing that they would suit the elf-prince. Like Orcrist, Sting and Gandalf’s Glamdring, the daggers were made in Gondolin, according to Thranduil who was pleased that Thorin had chosen something appropriate to thank Legolas. How they came to be in the dragon’s hoard, no one knew.  
“These..? These are for…me?” When Thorin nodded, Legolas continued. “These are beautiful blades, Thorin. I don’t read Quenyan, but I can see the etchings on each one. I will ask Lord Elrond what it says. Thank you Thorin. I will wear them with honour. How did you come by them?”  
“Their names are Váre and Tíre, Protect and Guard.” Said Thorin pointing the relevant blade. “The were in the Dragon’s Hoard. How they came to be there I do not know. I do know that they were not in our treasury when the Mountain fell to Smaug. Either an elf attempted to gain entry to the hoard or, more likely, the dragon had another hoard elsewhere and somehow brought it to Erebor. Your father was the one who translated the names for me, when I showed them to him, asking if you would like them.”  
“They truly are remarkable pieces. They are the same design as Orcrist. Would you not keep them for yourself?” Legolas seemed dubious that the blades were his to keep.  
“Nay, lad. They are yours. And yes, quite possibly they are the blades of Orcrist’s original set, but who knows, they may be just made to emulate the sword itself.” Thorin grinned at him.  
“Thorin? How is it that you are here? Should you not be in your Halls, Under The Mountain?” The blonde elf asked hesitantly.  
“That is a story I owe Elrond. One I would prefer to tell only the once. Join us for dinner I will gladly tell it.”  
“Of course. I would be pleased to.” The elf stood and the two males left the room. Thorin waited until they had passed a number of building before asking, “Legolas, do you know where the dining area is? I seem to have left the map Lindir gave me, in my room.” He wasn’t going to admit he had no sense of direction.  
“Of course, Thorin. It is this way.” The young elf indicated with a graceful wave of his hand.  
Within a few minutes Thorin and Legolas joined the rest of the Company, Elladan, Elrohir and Elrond. They enjoyed a fine meal with many dishes, while Thorin told of how he, Fíli and Kíli had been found to be alive, their treatment and recovery. The princes added details Thorin missed or wasn’t aware of. The table was also told of their journey to come and the reason for it. As well as what they planned to do once they reached The Shire. Balin informed the elves that their Company would only be staying the one night, while Thorin made the request that Elrond store some of the trunks for them, as they weren’t sure how they could secure all the trunks in Bag End. Elrond assured the dwarrow that their trunks would be safe in Rivendell. Each Dwarrow took a small bag of gold, more than enough for travel expenses, while Thorin took a larger amount, enough to hopefully purchase the caves, woodland and a small sice of river bank. Elladan and Elrohir offered to accompany them as far as Bree, if they went any further they would not be back in time for Bilbo and Gandalf’s arrival, they wanted to see the expression on Gandalf’s face when told Thorin is alive.  
Elrond was not at all surprised that Bilbo was central to Thorin’s future, he had seen how the strings of Vairë, the weaver of destinies, bound the two together. He was also unsurprised to hear that Thorin and the other dwarrow did not believe that Master Baggins would be accepted by the dwarrow nation to rule as Consort to the King Under the Mountain or that Tauriel would be permitted to live within the Mountain. He was saddened to hear that the Law of The Seven Fathers would mean either keeping a King from his chosen Consort or the people from their King. When Lindir questioned why Fíli had forgone the throne in support of his kin, it was Legolas that commented that kin and loved ones should come before a throne of wood or stone. The journey from his father’s Hall to Rivendell was good for the young prince, giving him time to understand how he really felt about many things, including Tauriel.  
Before the meal was cleared from the table, conversation flowed as freely as the wine and ale. Lindir unwound enough to chat amiably with Balin and Gloín. Tauriel, Kíli, and Legolas compared fletching, goose versus swan. Thorin and Elrond commiserated regarding the pranksters, Elladan and Elrohir for Elrond and Thorin suffered from Fíli and Kíli. Elladan and Elrohir themselves kept the rest of the table entertained for the night.  
The morning would come and they would face it.


	7. Meeting the Thain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just so we all know what he means when the Thain says 'Hevensday or Mersday'.
> 
> Stenday = Saturday  
> Sunday = Sunday  
> Monday = Monday  
> Trewsday = Tuesday  
> Hevensday = Wednesday  
> Mersday = Thursday  
> Highday = Friday

**Meeting the Thain**

The journey west from Rivendell took the Company over a week, if they hadn’t decided that they should visit the Thain in Tuckborough before heading on to Bag End, it would have been less. It was a pleasure to ride through the wide open spaces of the shire, they had not seen a hint of Orcs or any other trouble this time and the riding was easy.  
They stopped at a tavern called The Pussy Willow to get directions to the Great Smials, the home of the Thain. The stableman pointed them in the right direction and they rode on. What they found was a hobbit hole eerily similar to Bag End, but with a blue door. It wasn’t until Thorin and Balin were shown to the Thain’s study that they realised that The Great Smials was even larger than Bag End.  
Ferumbras looked to be little more than a child but was the son and apprentice of Fortimbras, the current Thain and he escorted the two dwarrow to his father’s study and announced them.  
“Father. Thor Thundercloud and Balin Fundinson.”  
“Thank you, Ferumbras. Gentlemen, what can I do for you?”  
“We would speak to you regards Bilbo Baggins, my lord.” Balin was to do most of the talking.  
“Ah, Cousin Bilbo. The elf Elrond said you have a contract with Bilbo?” Cousin? Bilbo was cousin to the Thain? Why had they not known Bilbo was as close to royalty as was to be found in The Shire?  
“Yes, my lord. We had business over the Misty Mountains and required assistance. Gandalf the Grey recommended Master Baggins to us and after discussing the matter with him in some depth, Master Baggins joined our Company and we rode East. Our business is near complete but Gandalf had Bilbo take a different route back to Bag End from the rest of our Company. We were very fortunate that the Great Eagles offered to carry us to Rivendell and as a result of this we are here that much sooner than anticipated. Without the Eagles we planned to be some weeks behind Master Baggins and Gandalf, instead we find we are a number of weeks in front of them. This leaves us with a concern. Accommodation. Lord Elrond assured us that with the contract that we have with Bilbo that we would be able to stay in Bag End until his return. Is this correct?” Balin outlined their predicament. He handed over a copy of the contract, a copy that with Elrond’s help now read the Company of Thor Thundercloud instead of Thorin Oakenshield.  
After carefully reading the document, Fortimbras handed it back to Balin and rang a bell calling Ferumbras back to the study.  
“Well, that seems to be in order. I’m glad to have had Elrond visit, otherwise we would have assumed that Bilbo had died. There’s been a request to auction off his estate, but now, knowing he’s alive, I’ve had the great pleasure of telling the Sacksville-Baggins’ to go plough they garden in, it’d look better.” Hearing his father say this had Ferumbras gasping in shock. The dwarrow knew how insulting this was as Bilbo had said this to a Man in Bree on their way east and had a nearby hobbit going very pale at the sound of it.  
“Yes. Well, Bilbo wasn’t fond of the Sacksville-Baggins’, by the time we’d reached the Misty Mountains, he regretted not send you a letter to tell you what was happening, he feared for his silverware. Said something about Lobelia Sacksville-Baggins always trying to steal it?” Thorin spoke for the first time after sitting down.  
“Lobelia was very put out to find she wasn’t going to get Bag End. Even if Bilbo was dead, she still wouldn’t have gotten it. We might have auctioned of the effects, but his will was very clear, the smial goes to his cousin Drogo Baggins. But it was most pleasant to cut Lobelia’s plans off at the neck. Most pleasant.” Replied Fortimbras with a chuckle. “But enough pleasantries. Yes the contract you have will give you access to Bag End, but not unlimited access. By this I mean that you can use Bag End for your accommodation, but for no more than 12 weeks. This is fairly standard. But I know just how big Bag End is and its going to be a squeeze for 13 dwarves and one elf. Do you plan to all stay there until Bilbo’s return? What then?”  
“Thank you, Thain. That brings us to the next item of business. We have been told of a cave system just north-west of Bag End that we are interested in purchasing.”  
“Which one? There’s a small system near the Bindbole wood or the one on the edge of Overhill?” To hear there were two sets of caves that close to Bag End was astounding.  
“We only knew of the system at Bindbole, sir. That’s our goal. But we’d like to investigate the other at some point in he future.” Balin said after exchanging a glance with Thorin.  
The next hour or so was used to negotiate the purchase of the cave site and an appropriate parcel of land around and above it and an option to purchase the second site if it turned out to be suitable. The purchase of part of Bindbole Wood, however was a much more involved subject and the best agreement that they could come to was that Tauriel could rent the Wood for 10 years if she purchased the land between the cave system and the Wood. After that 10 years, if she still wanted it, then she would be able to purchase 1/3 of the total Woods and still retain the rental on the rest of the Woods, if she saw to it's wellbeing. For the other site near Small Delving they would need to speak to the Mayor of Michael Delving, this they decided to do at a later date.

“Well, gentlemen, if that’s all, I’ll accompany you to Bag End and see you have keys and an introduction to Bilbo’s gardener Holman Gamgee. He's been acting as caretaker during Bilbo's absence.”  
“Actually there is another matter I’d like to discuss…well, two really.” Started Thorin. “Balin, could you go ask Fíli for the bag? He’ll know which one I mean.” Thorin waited until Balin had left the room before continuing. “I don’t know how much you know about dwarrow and their customs? But I’m going to assume for the moment that you know nothing so there are no miscommunications, sir.”  
“Well. You’d be right then. I know very little about… dwarrow, you said?” He continued when Thorin nodded. “About dwarrow customs.”  
“Good. Firstly can you tell me the attitude to same gender relationships here in the shire?”  
“Same gender? Well, now. That’s a little complex. They are not frowned on, but it is recommended that both parties have an heir outside the relationship. The Bowen lass that married the Wheaten girl, was slightly different. The Wheaten girl had been to Bree with her family but fell afoul of bandits on the Road. She was the only one to survive and was badly hurt and, with very few exceptions, she can’t tolerate menfolk anywhere near her now. Poor child. The two of them nominated one of the Bowen lads as their heirs as we all knew there was no chance of her ever having children of her own. But the Rockridge lad that married the boy of my neighbours, the Seedrights, they asked a sister of the other lad to carry a child for each of them. Most of them however, already have an heir chosen before they wed. Why? How is this relevant?”  
Thorin was pleased that such cases were already there. Balin knocked and entered the room after Fortimbras replied. He handed Thorin a small-ish bag that had clanked and chinked as he’d carried it in.  
“Bilbo Baggins is the head of the Baggins’ family, his father’s family. You, sir, are the head of his mother’s family and as the current Thain are of a higher rank than Master Baggins.” Fortimbras nodded. “As such, it is you who I am approaching on this matter. I wish to Court Bilbo Baggins. In dwarrow Courtship, there are a number Formalities that must be completed. The first is to speak to the Head of the Family of your intended and receive permission before you approach your intended with the matter. The Second is the gift to the Family of your intended. This must be relevant to the Family, but also be something that has been made by your Family, but not by you. If you are granted permission and your gifts are accepted, only then can you speak to your One, as we call our love, about Courtship and Marriage.” Thorin took a deep breathe and lifted the bag onto the desk in front of the Thain. He carefully opened it to reveal two wrapped bundles that when spread out on the desk one was three sets of stunningly wrought knives, from a small paring knife right the way through to a seriously wicked looking butcher’s cleaver. All had beautifully carved handles of bone with intricate vines twisting around to provide a good surface to grip. The second bundle consisted of a series of pocket knives of different shapes and sizes, these ranged in size from the length of a finger to as long as Thorin's Hand from wrist to fingertip. Some had one blade others had many blades, one Thorin opened to show different types of blades and even a pair of tiny scissors.  
Balin’s raised eyebrows and the dropped jaw of the Thain, showed they both saw the quality of work on the desk. The Thain reached out a hand to touch, before pulling his hand back tucking it under the desk.  
“These were made by your Family?” The Thain spoke quietly.  
“Yes. My nephew and first heir, Fíli made the pocket knives, he specialises in small and fine work like these. It took me many months to realise that he wasn’t suited to work on the bigger items like swords and plough-blades. My other nephew and second heir, Kíli likes to work on blades. Knives, daggers and arrows are where he does his best. I could only teach the boys so much before they had learnt all I knew of bladework, at that point I found other Masters to teach them and now they have both been accepted as Master of their Craft. It was a very satisfying to see lads I’d bounced on my knee, be declared Masters.” Thorin’s memories filled his eyes and heart.  
“Truly these are a Master’s works. You talk of their skills, Master Thundercloud, but what of your skill? Do you have skills to support Bilbo?”  
“Myself, I tend to work best with shaped items, things like kettles, pans, hinges, doorknobs. Not that we all can’t turn our hand to weaponry, but that’s not where our greatest skills lay. Smaller finer work. Any halfway decent smith can forge a sword, but a door lock? A cheese knife? A pocket knife? A hinge? A candleholder? A Kettle? And lets not forget that all smiths must be able to repair a pot or blade. In addition to this, our trip East was very profitable, we, my Company, that is, would never have to work again if we didn’t’ want to, but that’s not how we are, we all need to keep busy in our own way. The other matter that I wanted to raise with you was to purchase a small slice of land fronting onto the Rushrock Water, where I can build a small forge. But to answer your question, sir. Yes, I can support Bilbo in any way he wishes me to.”  
At this, the Thain sat back in his chair and looked to the ceiling. He did this for several minutes before tilting his head back to look at Thorin. Thorin felt like he was facing Smaug all over again. He didn’t think that the Thain would appreciate the comparison. Finally the Thain sat forward and lifted his hands.  
“Well. I’ll be along later in the week, probably, Hevensday or Mersday, with the paperwork for the purchases. As for these knives, Thor, I’ll give one set to my wife, one to Bilbo’s heir’s intended when they finally marry and the other will be kept to use for the big Shire Gatherings. If you don’t mind, that is? The pocket knives, well, I’d like to keep this one for myself and the rest’ll be gifts for the lads that have started to Court in this year, to be given to them at their weddings. How does that sound?” Fortimbras, picked out a simple pocket knife and inclined his head to the rest of the blades on the table.  
Thorin let out a breathe with a whoosh that left him feeling slightly lightheaded.  
The Thain stood and ushered them back out to the rest of the Company.  
“Come into the garden, lads, and lets have some luncheon. After that Ferumbras and I will accompany you to Bag End and see you situated.” Fortimbras said to the dwarrow gathered at his gate.  
“Aye, Fortimbras, we’d like that.” Said Balin.  
But not one of the assembled dwarrow moved, their focus was solely on Thorin. They knew what Balin had collected the Family’s Gift and waited to see if he had permission to Court the burglar Baggins. Fortimbras must have realised this for he turned to the dwarrow and said.  
“Masters Fíli and Kíli, I am proud to have your work in my home.” He had to stop and wait as a rousing cheer went up from the dwarrow. “Master Kíli I have asked your uncle if I may give a set of your knives to my wife and another set to the lass Bilbo’s heir intends to marry, not until the wedding of course. The other set we’ll keep for using at Shire Gatherings. Master Fíli, I kept one of your blades for my self and the rest I intend to gift out to the lads who start Courting this year, again at their weddings, of course. Oh and when I come to Bag End next week, I’d like to talk to both of you regarding making a set of knives for my eldest son and his bride-to-be.”  
Thorin suddenly found himself with an armful of nephews and he couldn’t bring himself to care that they clung in public, he was too happy.


	8. Shocking Gandalf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adar mer na ped na cin.  
> Father wants to speak to you. 
> 
> Nec i perian.  
> Without the Halfling.
> 
> Ta nia i norn aran, Mithrandir.  
> It’s about the dwarf king. Mithrandir.
> 
> Mithrandir. Ta man na cen cin.  
> Mithrandir. Its good to see you.

**Shocking Gandalf**

 

The western bridge of Rivendell finally came into sight, letting both Gandalf and Bilbo breathe a sigh of relief. A smile broke through the dust covering Gandalf’s face at the sight of two familiar elves.

“Elladan. Elrohir.” Gandalf greets the two dark-haired elves.

“Mithrandir.” Responds one.

“Master Baggins.” Says the other.

“Welcome back to Rivendell.”

“We’ve been expecting-”

“-you for days.”

The Twins, as always, spoke in sequence, one after the other. No matter how long Gandalf had been visiting Elrond in Rivendell, he had never been able to tell the Twins apart and to his knowledge, neither had anyone else, including their father or sister. They were halves of a whole. There was never one without the other. They were always together. They were the Twins.

“Rooms have been readied for you both.”

“We have a pony-”

“-for you, Master Baggins.”

“A fine grey from Rohan.”

“Adar mer na ped na cin.” *

“Nec i perian.” *

“Ta nia i norn aran, Mithrandir.”*

“Your rooms are this way.”

“Come. Rest.”

Gandalf nodded in response the Twins’ comments in Sindarin, knowing that Bilbo would not know what had been said. Why would Elrond want to speak to him about the dwarf king? What had Daín done?

Bilbo found it more than a little difficult to follow the conversation, he was so tired. Of course, that wasn’t anything new. Sleep, restful sleep was a rarity for him these days. He dreamt each night that he was back on Ravenshill waking just in time to hold Thorin’s hand and bid him farewell from this life. Every single night he relived that moment. Gandalf assured him that in time it would get easier and the dreams would come less often. He was wrong.

Bilbo stumbled through the door of the room assigned to him, the furniture the right size for a hobbit, finally.

After the Twins statement that there was plenty of time before the evening meal would be ready, Bilbo decided that he could take advantage of the bathing room attached to his room. He could wash himself and his few remaining clothes, wearing the robe provided until his clothes dried. While he waited there was a kettle and teapot on the hearth and fruit and biscuits on a drawing table just waiting for him to nibble on.

Gandalf on the other had, barely had time to brush the dust from his robes before the Twins were back to escort him to Elrond’s study. The wizard was pleased to see Elrond and slightly startled to see that Legolas was sitting patiently with him.

“Mithrandir. Ta man na cen cin.”*

“Indeed, my lord, indeed. The Twins said you wanted to talk to me without Bilbo knowing. Something about the dwarf king. What’s Daín done?”

“Why do you assume I mean Daín?”

“Why? Because Daín is King Under the Mountain now, he rules Erebor and the Iron Hills. There are no kings in Ered Luin and Princess Dís rules the Blue Mountains. Daín is the only king left in the dwarven nations. To wish it otherwise is folly.”

“Folly is not such a bad thing, sometimes.” Elrond smirked.

Gandalf glanced quickly at Legolas when he made an amused sound.

“What am I missing? Something has happened and I have not been told. What has happened?” Gandalf drew himself to his full height, becoming stern and hard.

“Legolas. You were the last to speak to him.” Elrond waved at Legolas in permission. Legolas and Elrond continued to smile.

“First let me say that just recently I was informed that ‘dwarrow’ is the correct word when discussing more than one dwarf, in any type reference.” Said Legolas.

“Dwarrow? Are you certain?”

“Yes, Mithrandir. But to continue. Daín may be King Under the Mountain, but it is only at the concession of his cousin.” Legolas was enjoying teasing Gandalf, giving him information in small pieces.

“Yes, yes, I suppose Dís could claim the throne for herself, the dwarves of the Blue Hills would support her.”

“Not Dís. Her brother.”

“Both Frerin and Thorin are dead.”

“No Gandalf. Thorin Oakenshield is very much alive. And by now is probably making himself quite at home in Bag End.” Elrond couldn’t wait any longer.

“He is dead, Elrond. I saw him.”

“And I was there when he opened his eyes to Galadriel.”

“And I spoke to him in these halls, Gandalf.” Legolas added.

“Galadriel? What? Elrond?! I do NOT understand!”

“It was Dwalin that first suspected…” over the next hour Elrond and Legolas brought Gandalf up to date with all he had missed. To say the wizard was shocked would be an understatement. For one of the first time in the nearly 1500 years that Elrond has known him, the wizard of the Istari was rendered completely and utterly speechless. It took a large dose of apple brandy and two pipes before it could be said that Gandalf was almost himself again, so great was the shock.

He agreed with Elrond and Thranduil that Bilbo should not be told yet. But what excuse was there for his failure? None. Thorin lived and Gandalf had thought him dead. What did that say about him? About his competence? He had cast himself in a very poor light and had only himself to blame. The guilt that he felt for failing Thorin was almost overwhelming. At the recommendation of Elrond, Gandalf wrote a letter to Bilbo, detailing his failure and stating that he would be going to Isengard to talk to the head of his Order about his failure and hoped that Bilbo would one day forgive him. Legolas offered to take it to Bag End so that Thorin could be the one to give it to Bilbo and he left the room to pack.

Elrond instructed Elladan and Elrohir to pack travel rations for Gandalf as he would be leaving immediately, as he had a long journey south. The Twins would be accompanying Bilbo past Bree to Frogmorton. They discussed escorting him all the way to Bag End, but finally decided that unless it was near dark when they reached the village and Bilbo wished to continue on that night, they would leave at Frogmorton. It was only a morning’s walk from Frogmorton to Bag End after all and Bilbo had walked it many times.

Yes, there was the issue of a dwarf infestation in Bag End, but according to the last raven Elrond had received from Thorin, the rest of the Company had already made a camp for themselves in a clearing between the Bindbole Woods and the caves, so it would be only Thorin, Fíli, Kíli and Tauriel. The younger dwarf had discovered the hard way that he was not nearly as healed as he had hoped, which resulted in a minor setback. Tauriel had insisted that he move back to Bag End as he found it impossible to stay out of the caves.

For now the elves would let Bilbo rest. His journey wasn’t over yet.

 

That evening the meal was subdued. Bilbo’s face had been resigned when told that Gandalf had left and would not be travelling any further with him.

“He blames himself, Elrond. For Thorin’s death. For Fíli’s. For Kíli’s. For the deaths of all those who fell at Erebor and at Dale. He blames himself for not being there early enough to have been inside the mountain, if he had Thorin wouldn’t have fallen to the gold sickness, is what he thinks. He’s wrong. There was nothing he could have done. Nothing anyone could have done. But he must make amends with himself. Must forgive himself. It is not an easy thing to do. I know. But before he can forgive himself, he must see that he could not have changed their fates. Vairë wove their destinies and we must live ours. No matter the pain and regret.”

To hear the Halfling – hobbit, hobbit, hobbit, Elrond constantly reminded himself that the being in front of him was not half of anything – say such things with such pain in his voice, almost convinced Elrond tell him the truth, only the fact that Bilbo would never believe him made him hold his tongue. He sincerely prayed to Yavanna that the pain Bilbo felt now would be relieved by having his loved ones again.

Bilbo slept surprisingly well overnight and was well rested for a change. No tossing or turning, just deep healing sleep. Rivendell was a place of safety and for the first time since Erebor, Bilbo let down his guard and trusted others to protect him. Not that he didn’t trust Gandalf, but…. There was a part of him that was still angry at the wizard for not being there in time to save Thorin's life. Not his fault, Bilbo knew but anger was never a rational emotion.

 

He looked very little like a hobbit the next morning as he tool his leave of Elrond and Rivendell. He wore a dwarf-styled tunic and travel cloak with a warg-pelt shoulder pelmet, the large triangular cloak-pin proclaiming its dwarrow heritage loudly. As he and Gandalf had travelled the Old Forest Road, Beorn met them at the foot of the mountains, where he had presented Bilbo with the pelt of the Warg that Bilbo had killed. When the Company had left his House and headed into the forest known as Mirkwood, Beorn had made his way to the outcropping where the Eagles had told him the warg had been killed by the little bunny of the dwarf king. It didn’t take very long for the hobbit to discover that warg-pelts are very good at insulating, over the next week of their journey he carefully cut the pelt and lined his cloak with it, using the left overs to make a shoulder pelmet that would double as a hood.

Knitted half-gloves from Ori kept his hands warm, but the hilt of Sting poking out of the folds of his cloak and the great square metal shield strapped to shoulder said this was a being accustomed to bearing weapons. His travel pack and a bulky but now covered piece of timber were slung from the saddle of his pony.

Not Myrtle, poor Myrtle was long gone. Bilbo didn’t know it but Myrtle had been sent with the Company when they had left Rivendell some weeks earlier. Being the gentlest of the ponies, she had the dubious honour of carrying Fíli to Bag End.

As Elrond knew what future was in front of Bilbo, he had provided the hobbit with another pony, a pony of the finest endurance stock that Rohan had to offer. The grey pony was taller than poor Myrtle with a dished face and a sweet nature. Long legs and the same proportions as a full sized horse, gave Bilbo the first sense of security he’d ever felt on a pony. **_This_** pony was **_meant_** for someone his size to ride for long lengths of time. He decided to name his little mare Dove for she was the same soft grey as the downy feathers of a dove’s breast.

Elladan and Elrohir are mounted on tall white elven horses and lightly burdened by their travel gear, the three riders make good time heading west. The Twins plead with Bilbo to show them the trolls and to hear the story of their escape, so Bilbo spins the tale out to take most of the morning, glossing over some of the more painful sections. They reach the destroyed homestead by midmorning on the third day of travel, while Bilbo remembers it taking the Company four full days of hard running to get from the troll-hoard to Rivendell.

They stop for long enough for the Twins to rummage through the remains of the hoard and neither of them are quite sure how but they manage to find the small chest of gold and jewels that Gloín, Nori and Bofur buried as a ‘Long Term Deposit’. In addition to this the elves found another cache of elven weapons, bows and swords, even further back in the cave. How they tolerated the stench Bilbo could not understand.

The small chest was tied to the back of Dove’s saddle so that it rested on Bilbo’s travel roll and could cause no hurt to the mare’s delicate loin area. She wasn’t keen on the smell of the chest and fidgeted for the rest of the day.

That evening the trio camped near a small spring-fed pool, Bilbo taking advantage of the fresh water. He went to where the water left the pool and in the trickling overflow washed the chest. He laid out a ground cloth used to protect someone from wet surfaces and as he washed each coin or jewel he laid it on the cloth, when all the contents were clean, he dug a larger hole and once it was full of clean fresh water he dropped the small chest into it. It took a half dozen dunking’s and a couple of scrubs with wild mint and soap-root before the trunk no longer reeked of Troll stench. Dove still wrinkled her nose when Bilbo tied it to her saddle the next morning and continued to snort and shuffle her feet whenever the wind brought the smell to her head, but she remained calm and responsive to her rider from that point on.

 


	9. A Lesson Learnt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter is for Imreth, who asked for Kili and Tauriel.
> 
> Translations are at the end of the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stenday = Saturday  
> Sunday = Sunday  
> Monday = Monday  
> Trewsday = Tuesday  
> Hevensday = Wednesday  
> Mersday = Thursday  
> Highday = Friday

**A Lesson Learnt**

 

Tauriel returned to the camp on the edge of Bindbole Wood with two braces of rabbits and one of pheasant. Enough that along with the vegetables they’d brought from Hobbiton there was ample for Bombur to make a stew as well as a few pies and pasties for the menfolk when they returned from clearing loose stone within the caves proper.

She dropped the cleaned game near the fire and looked around the camp. It was a clean and very practical space, tents and a low platform in a huge oak tree. There were many signs of occupation in the clearing, from boots hanging on tent-poles, to a line of laundry drying in the sun… But one thing that should have been there was missing.

Kíli.

Kíli was supposed to be working with Bombur around the camp, cutting vegetables, hanging laundry, collecting firewood. That type of thing, but the pile of wood near the fire was good and tall, the fire well fed already.

But no Kíli in sight.

With a sigh Tauriel made her way around the camp until Bombur caught sight of her, he started and flushed. He knew what she was asking without words and she was answered by flush creeping across his face, his hands trembled and he stuttered.

“T-T-Tauriel, I-I, I’m sorry lass. He…”

“Never mind, Bombur. I’ll go fetch him back.” Tauriel headed in the direction of the caves, intent on bringing her stubborn dwarf back to camp.

She had barely taken three steps away from camp when Nori came running back to camp. He grabbed a string of waterbags without slowing down and as he rounded the camp, he yelled.

“Kíli! Kíli hurt hisself again! Hurry up Bedaku-Kíli *!”

“Eitha-ed*!” She swung her medical pack down off one of the beams of the platform as she went past. “I’m going to belth-hon* when I get my hands on him!” she cursed as she ran.

“That’s a girl, Bedak*. You tell him.”

They were only a few yards from the cave entrance when Kíli was brought out into the sunlight. He was on his own feet at least, but Tauriel could see the effort it was costing him to stay upright. Dwalin and Dori, being the strongest of the dwarrow had hold of Kíli by the arms and were supporting most of his weight. Oín looked at her and said.

“Lass, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“This.” And proceeded to cut Kíli’s shirt right up the middle of the front.

“Oi! That’s my shirt.” Kíli swatted at Oín’s hands.

“Kíli! Stop that! Now, mel nin*. Let Oín do his job. Talking of jobs. Why are you in the caves?! You said you would wait, you said you would help Bombur, nothing was said about you going into the caves.” Tauriel’s voice was calm, the calm of deep, fast-running water, but the clenching of her fingers around the bow she hadn’t had a chance to put down, told a different story. She was mad.

“Tauriel, my love. Don’t be angry. I didn’t mean to. Bombur asked me to let the men know it was time for lunch and Dwalin said Bifur and Bofur were deeper in the caves. When I found them they were looking at a column of Red Sapphire and as we came back I bumped my shoulder on another pillar, when I felt it start to crumble I grabbed it and it was White Gems like the Gems of Lasgalen, of Thranduil’s. It was fragile. So fragile, but it was supporting the roof of that tunnel.”

Here he had to stop, due to Oín’s manhandling. Bofur took up the telling.

“He had hold of the pillar, but it was collapsin’, it jus’ weren’t gonna stay up. He yelled at us ter run. And as soon as we were near the tunnel mouth, he leggo and came runnin’ too. But a large gem cluster came loose and clonked ‘im on the shoulder and down ‘e went jus’ inside the mouth of the tunnel. Me ‘n Bifur went back for ‘im, we grabbed ‘im up and ran, but parts of the ceiling come down and one of ‘em hit ‘im before we got ‘im back on ‘is feet.”

“We got ‘im to the main chamber and sent Nori for Oín, who sent Nori for the waterbags. Oín says that-” Bifur took up the tale before being cut off by Oín.

“He’s re-cracked a couple o’ ribs and strained some muscles holdin’ that pillar up. But, lass, I was in that tunnel just a few minutes earlier and I gotta say if ‘e hadn’t held that pillar and pushed it in the direction ‘e did, then the three of ‘em would be dead ‘n buried.”

“Push? I didn’t push it any direction… did I?”

“Ya did laddie, ya did. Iffin’ ya’d pushed it directly away from the tunnel mouth or towards it, it woulda be done and dusted, lad. But cause ya pushed it to the side of the tunnel, only one section of the ceiling could collapse at a time, gave us time ter get out, it did. Well done, well done.” Bifur looked ready to clap poor Kíli on the back until Oín and Tauriel glared at him.

“Now we know that tunnel is unstable we’ll stay outa it until we gets some more ‘elp. We was thinkin’ it might good fer a livin’ area, but not now. Now we’ll go down one of the other tunnels. It was the last tunnel we were checking out. The others are all stable, not sure yet why that one ain’t, but it ain’t. So, it can wait. We’ve got more important things ter work on than that tunnel jus’ yet.” Bofur continued.

“I couldn’t let go. No while Bofur and Bifur were still in the tunnel. Please, amrâlu, don’t be mad. I wasn’t doing anything I said I wouldn’t.” Kíli reached at hand towards Tauriel, almost begging her. She stepped forward and took hold of his hand, a moment later she turned his hand over and opened his fingers. There in his hand were a small cluster of raw gemstones, White Gems, just like the Gems of Lasgalen. He looked at them.

“I don’t remember picking anything up.” He said puzzledly. He brought his other hand up and opened it and there in it was another cluster of gems. The clear bright white glow as the sun hit Kíli’s hands, was breathtaking.

“I can understand why Thranduil wanted to give a crown of these to Ellerian. She shone just as brightly with love for him and Legolas as these stones. And these are raw stones, how bright they would be, cut and polished.” Tauriel said, awe strong in the voice.

Dori stepped forward while Oín continued to treat the cuts and scrapes that covered Kíli’s back and arms.

“I will cut them for you, Kíli. You’ve given Tauriel a Courting Bead, but you’ve yet to make her a Marriage Bead. I’ll cut your White Gems and you already have some Mithril from your last trip sneaking into the caves. Thorin’s forge will be ready to fire up inside a week. It won’t take long to season the forge ready to work metal. You can give your Bedak a Marriage Bead worthy of a bride of a Durin.”

“He can think about that later. Keeping this nadnul* out of the caves, even when he is doing the right thing, is not going to work. He didn’t do anything wrong and he still got hurt. We can’t risk it, not until you’re fully healed, laddie, I’m sorry. Ori. Saddle a pony. You head for Bag End, tell Thorin, Kíli’s not badly hurt but we – I – won’t risk him in the caves until I’m sure his ribs are right. Gloín, Bofur, Nori make a stretcher, we going to have to carry him to Bilbo’s.”

“I can walk. No stretcher, Oín.”

Oín just ignored Kíli and kept firing orders about.

“Bifur, go tell Bombur what happened and see if we can git some-it to eat on the march. Balin you go with Tauriel and help her pack up hers and Kíli’s things, they’ll be staying with Thorin and Fíli for at least a month, maybe more. Dwalin, Dori put him down here, no, here on the log. Dori can up go get some bandages from me kit, I’m going to have to strap his ribs.”

“Oín! No. No strapping. Please?”

“I’ll make you a deal laddie. I strap you for the trip back to Bilbo’s and if you swear not to lift anything heavier than a plate of food for two weeks, I’ll let you go without bandages once we get to Bag End. Deal?”

“Deal. Damn it.” Kíli groaned. “Thorin’s going to kill me.”

“I don’t think it's Thorin you need to worry about. That Bedak of yours was swearing up a treat when Dwalin and Dori were bringing you out, lad. I’ve no idea what she was saying but it sounded vicious. Personally, I’d be more worried about her than Thorin.” Said Nori from where he was stripping the branches off of a strong sapling.

“Aye, laddie. Never git yer womenfolk mad at yer. They’ll hide it and hide it and then jus’ when you least expect it they’ll dish it back at yer. Nasty, lovely things. Tauriel’s a good strong lass, inventive and fearless. If it weren’t fer her height and them ears, she’d make a fine dwarrowdam. Yer’ll never regret asking her ter be yer bride, laddie. Never” Gloín chuckled as he cut canvass to length to use as the bed of the stretcher.

It was clear that just getting Kíli down onto the stretcher was going to be a painful exercise, so Oín was glad he had given Kíli a small draught of a pain potion. By the time he had finished treating all Kíli’s cuts and strapped his ribs, it had taken effect. Thankfully. He kept the potion ready-made now, just in case it was needed, Kíli wasn’t the only one to need it, though, pulled muscles were common until the dwarrow became accustomed to manual labour again. That and rocks dropped on feet were the most frequent injuries at present.

 

Ori met them on his way back to camp.

“Thorin is ready and waiting. He’s had two ravens from Elrond, Bilbo left Rivendell yesterday. Elrond estimates that he should be here in a little over two weeks. Gandalf didn’t handle the news real well. He was very upset. He’s left Bilbo with the Twins and has gone back to see the head of the Wizard’s Order. Elrond said Bilbo doesn’t look good, nightmares, not eating and not getting enough rest. He thinks Bilbo will be much better when he get home and see’s everyone is alive and on the way to well. He sent Legolas to bring a letter from Gandalf for Bilbo for later, he should be here in a few days and wants to know if he can stay for a week or so until he can meet up with some rangers. Oh and Missus Gamgee is sending her eldest lad, Hamfast, along with some baked goods, a ham and some mutton in exchange for some game.” Ori pulled his pony to the side of the path to let the stretcher, now carried by Gloín and Bifur go past.

“There’s a brace of pheasants and two brace of rabbits back at camp. You might be lucky and Bombur may not have cooked them yet. Tell young Hamfast to drop in at Bag End and let me know what was there, I’m happy to hunt down a few more of either for Missus Gamgee.” Directed Tauriel as she paused beside the pony. She gently touched Ori’s leg in thanks as she moved off to follow the other dwarrow.

As she walked she listened to the dwarrow talking, occasionally commenting. She reflected on the change in her life since meeting a certain raven-headed dwarf. Once Thorin announced that she and Kíli were Courting and welcomed her to the family, the rest of the Company accepted her in a way that the elves of Mirkwood never really did. The Company had in a strange way become more of a family to her than those of her own kind that she had lived with for centuries. How strange.

 

Thorin was waiting for them as the stretcher, now carried by Dwalin and Dori, rounded the last bend before Bag End.

“Lets get the lulkhá* inside. Before I decide to thump him. Missus Bracegirdle traded a pot of stew and some baking for a set of rings for her eldest son, he’s getting married this Stenday*. Fíli, show them which room, please. I want to have a word with Oín first.”

“Right you are, Uncle.” Fíli held the door open for the dwarrow to make their way through.

“Oín. How is he? Really?”

“Not too bad. He re-cracked some ribs, not seriously though, but the worst is the strained muscles in his back. Too much pressure on those muscles could cause cramping and spasms, so I don’t want to strap his ribs. He doesn’t know that though. We made a deal that he won’t lift anything heavier than a plate of food and I’ll leave the strapping off. I’ve given Tauriel some of my valerian-arnica-peppermint pain potion, just in case he needs it. And he may, for the first day or two. He should be back on his feet by tomorrow, definitely on Trewsday. Expect him to be fragile for at least a week, but he’s not to come back to the caves for two weeks and then only on day trips for another two weeks. Got it? Can I see to my patient now?” Oín stomped past Thorin only to come to a stop when Nori reminded him to take his boots off at the door.

Tauriel stopped with Thorin as the rest of the dwarrow removed their boots and made their way inside.

“He will be alright, Thorin. He did nothing wrong this time, was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She said resting a hand on Thorin’s shoulder. The dwarf had become almost as important to her as he was to his nephews, she felt the need to reassure him time and again, that the two younger dwarrow would be fine with enough time.

“I know, Tauriel, I know. Ori told us. Doesn’t make it any easier to see them in pain.” Thorin’s shoulders slumped.

“He’s a true dwarf, Thorin. These were clasped in his fists, he wasn’t even aware of picking anything up in one hand let alone with both hands.” Tauriel handed Thorin a folded piece of cloth.

“Oh, Mahal. White Gems.” He whispered once he’d opened the cloth.

“Yes. Dori offered to cut them for him for a Marriage Bead. I’d Like to talk to you about that. I would like to make a Marriage Bead for him myself, but… I’ve no experience with beads or metalwork. Can you help me?”

“I can, lass. But Dori and Nori are far better at beads and jewellery than I am, If you want the best then its definitely the Ri family you want.”

“I want to marry Kíli. The rest is unimportant. But I do think that to show the true depth of my feelings for him I should do the very best that I can. If you would not take offense at my approaching the Ri brothers, Thorin, then I would like the best skilled help I can get.”

“Nay, Tauriel. I’ll not take offense. As long as the bead is made by your hand, it matters not who guides you. Traditionally, a family member, or someone you see as a chosen family, stays with you when you make your Marriage Bead. You’ve no family here, but the dwarrow of my Company like you, so I doubt that any would refuse to guide you. However, Legolas will be here in less than a week. I can have the forge ready for use by then. Once he arrives, we can get Dori or Nori to come and give you a few lessons on bead-making. Nori's better with beads, but Dori's the best with setting gems in them. That way you can have more than one person you consider to be family present when you make Kíli’s Bead. Think about it for a bit. For now, lets head inside before the lads eat all Missus Bracegirdle’s stew.”

Thorin held the gate for Tauriel and once it was closed behind her, he offered her his hand as she climbed the few steps to the familiar round green door that still showed Gandalf’s softly glowing mark.

A dwarf and an elf living in a Hobbit smial. How far they – he – had come. Gandalf was right when he said Thorin needed that particular hobbit. He did, he needed his hobbit so much.

Two weeks, a little more and his One would be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bedaku-Kíli = Arrow of Kíli  
> Eitha-ed = Stuff it! (given elves don’t swear much, this was the closest I could get to ‘damn it!’)  
> Bedak = Arrow  
> belth-hon = kill him  
> mel nin = my love  
> nadnul = like a child  
> lulkhá = idiot


	10. Letters For the Not-So-Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akhzud-Báha = Dwarf Friend (the highest honour a king can bestow officially)  
> Khuzdul numbers  
> 1= T  
> 2= TT (joined across the top)  
> 3= TTT  
> and so on  
> And the rest can be found here - http://forgottenrealms.wikia.com/wiki/Dethek

**Letters for the Not-So-Dead**

 

Thorin paused in beating a rug under the careful eyes of Missus Gamgee when he heard the screech of a raven. He turned his gaze skyward and saw not one raven, but an Unkindness of perhaps a dozen of the black birds.

“Oh, Mahal. What now?” He muttered.

“Hmm… Well Mister Thor, I’ll leave you to deal with your birds and I’ll deal with the rugs. Off you go now.” Missus Gamgee shooed him away.

By the time Thorin had stopped in the kitchen and picked up the bowl of meat scraps they kept just for the ravens, the Unkindness had landed and were littering the branches of the cedar tree in the next plot up from Bag End. He made his way out the gate and along the path, through a hole in the hedge and up the steps to the tree.

“Greetings. Do you all have letters?”

“We do, Thorin Oakenshield” Replied the dominate raven. “The letters carried from Erebor are numbered. There is also a raven from the Blue Hills with us, too.”

“Thank you. If each of you would come down, I’ll take your letter from you. There should be sufficient meat here for all of you, but if there isn’t, send Roäc down to the smial and someone will bring more up for you. My thanks for your delivery.”

After collecting all the letters and starting back the way he’d come, Thorin stopped at the gate to Bag End. He just that second realised that the raven had called him Thorin Oakenshield, not Thor Thundercloud. He hurried inside.

 

An hour later Fíli, Kíli and Tauriel returned from the markets bearing supplies. They saw Thorin sitting thoughtfully in the parlour as the made their way to the kitchen.

“When you finish with that, I’ve news from Erebor and the Blue Hills for you.” Called Thorin.

“Yes, Uncle. Just be a minute.” Responded Fíli.

When the three joined him, he started.

“There are four letters from Erebor and one from the Blue Hills. Start with this one.” He handed one to the blonde dwarf.

 

_To The Dwarroven Thundercloud_

_Master Smith, Bag End, Hobbiton, The Shire._

_From Dáin Ironfoot,_

_Son of Náin, Son of Grór, King Under The Mountain._

_Greetings Thor._

_I am glad to hear you are settled in Hobbiton. Has your One returned yet, or does he still journey to you?_

_There is a rumour burrowing through Erebor that I find I do not want to staunch._

_In brief the rumour says that Thorin Oakenshield did not die in battle but rather had no intention of taking the Throne of King Under the Mountain. Various different ways he survived, but all say the same thing about why he is not now king. One of the librarians corrected a soldier, who had said Thorin should have brought his One to Erebor and ruled together, by telling the soldier of The Seven Fathers Law regards the Consort Under the Mountain and how the Consort can only be someone born of a dwarrowdam. From that point on, whispers flew thick and fast. All who attended saw the grief of the Burglar Baggins for the fallen king. They also saw the pain of the she-elf when the body of the Fox Nero Kíli was recovered. Stories also of the close bond between the Fox Nero and his brother the Golden Lion, Crown Prince of Erebor abounded. Some are saying to separate the brothers is to bring the wrath of Mahal down on the Mountain. Others say that the three have left for love and the safety of Erebor and asked their Cousin to hold the Throne Under the Mountain in their stead._

_I have decided to allow one of the crypt workers to leak that the Tombs of Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli the Golden Lion and Kíli Fox Nero are unfinished. I cannot officially announce anything until an advisor or Counsellor broaches the matter in Court. I do not think this will a long wait._

_Daín._

 

“Oh, Mahal. Daín what have you done, Cousin?”

“This one next.” Thorin handed over another piece of parchment.

 

_Thorin Oakenshield,_

_Son of Thráin, Son of Thrór, Prince of the Line of Durin._

 

_From Dáin Ironfoot,_

_Son of Náin, Son of Grór, King Under The Mountain._

_Well, it’s done now, cousin._

_You have your name back. It didn’t go quite the way I anticipated, but the end result was the same. I had thought it would be Geön or Tóln that would bring the matter to a head, but no. It was my own son, Thorin Stonehelm. He doesn’t want to rule, just be a soldier. He burst into the Court and begged me that it be true and that I have the Law be changed so you could take the Throne instead of it ever passing to him._

_Your Cousin_

_Daín._

 

“This is the third letter, Fíli.” A letter marked with the symbol for 3*

 

 

_Thorin Oakenshield,_

_Son of Thráin, Son of Thrór, Prince of the Line of Durin._

_From Dáin Ironfoot,_

_Son of Náin, Son of Grór, King Under The Mountain_

_Cousin,_

_During my coronation I swore to tell the truth whenever I wore the Crown of Erebor, so yes cousin, I told the truth, or part of it at least, I did leave parts out. I told of how our distant cousin Dwalin was the one to discover you and the princes lived. I left out the tree-shagging ponce, (my apologies to Lady Tauriel, her fighting for Kíli and the way she mourned him have created a special place for her, the dwarrow of Erebor consider one of our own. She is officially named Akhzud-Báha* of Erebor.) instead I said that you had gone to the Shape-shifter’s House to recover._

_You publically gave your One a Courting gift, Mithril is a Gift worthy of a Prince. His Gift to you of Reclaiming Erebor is a Gift worthy of the Greatest of Kings and will be sung into legend, (And you can’t stop us. Ha!). Such public Gifts make your Courtship Official, cousin._

_When asked if the Formalities have be followed, I only said that you had spoken to the Thain of the Hobbits, who is also the Burglar Baggins’ cousin, that the Princes had made the Family Gift and that the Thain had accepted them. That there was more than one gift, brought silence to the Audience Chamber. To be told that there were three sets of Chef-Master Knives and more than a dozen pocket blades only shows how much your One means to you and the high regard your Family holds him in. I did say that Prince Kíli had presented the family of Tauriel Akhzud-Báha with a Family Gift of Durin Family Heirlooms, handed down, father to son and that they were accepted. This officially rules both you and Kíli out of any chance of ascending the throne. As for Fíli, no one wants to push the matter and risk the wrath of Mahal, especially my oh-so superstitious Council._

_After much discussion, it actually came out that the Law applies to ALL Dwarrow Kings not just Kings Under the Mountain, the Seven Fathers set that Law up in such a way that no King can change it. My son is still sulking that he will have to rule, he’s not happy about it at all. I’m going to send him to clean out Gundabad next year, so that should keep him busy for a few years._

_Daín._

 

“Oh, no. Mother’s not going to like this.” Fíli groaned.

“You think? At least she can’t blame us.” Kíli whined.

“Oh! Oh, that is so true! Ha ha, Cousin Daín. You get to deal with Mother all by yourself!” Fíli giggled.

“Fíli, you know it’s not going to be that easy.” Thorin grumbled as he handed over the fourth letter.

 

_Thorin Oakenshield,_

_Son of Thráin, Son of Thrór, Prince of the Line of Durin._

_From Dáin Ironfoot,_

_Son of Náin, Son of Grór, King Under The Mountain_

_Cousin,_

_I have sent ravens to the Iron Hills, Ered Luin and The Blue Hills, telling of your survival, they will have arrived there before you get these. At least that was the plan._

_Be ready for a blasting from you sweet sister. I can almost guarantee she will not be happy with my decree._

_Now to your last official duty as a Prince of the Line of Durin._

_Dwarrow from The Blue Hills and Ered Luin will have to pass through The Shire on their way East. There will be caravans from them both, but I have stipulated that there is to be no more than two a piece. From what maps I can find here, they will pass through the villages of Waymeet, Bywater and Stock before they cross the Brandywine River. Your duty is to meet with the Thain and assist him in co-ordinating with the caravan Leaders and the Rangers. I have sent a request to the Rangers for a guide for each Caravan as very few of the Dwarrow will know the route they are to travel._

_Once the fourth caravan has crossed the Brandywine River it will be Official. You and the two Princes will be retired from Royal Duties. You will no longer in the line of succession._

_Just to make things even more difficult for you and the lads, I’m posting Dís as envoy to the Thain, so she will be staying in The Shire. Whether she returns to Erebor first or not is up to her. Deal with it!_

_Let me know when the Weddings are going to be, Gwaihir says he would like to attend and will have his Eagles transport a small party to The Shire. Apparently the Eagles are Romantics. There’s a small contingent of stone masons working to clear space for the Eagle Eyre on the high reaches and they’ve an animal speaker among them, who has been telling the tales of the Courtship of the Burglar Baggins and the near tragic romance of Tauriel Akhzud-Báha and Prince Kíli. The Eagles revel in romantic ballads and stories. When I was up there yesterday they sounded like a bunch of old dwarrowdams gossiping about their favourite courtiers. Bleh._

_Anyway, that’s it. Now you just get to deal with your sister. Haha!_

_Daín._

 

Both Fíli and Kíli groaned, but Kíli reached out a hand for the last letter. He could see their Mother’s handwriting.

 

_Thorin Oakenshield,_

_Son of Thráin, Son of Thrór, Prince of the Line of Durin._

_From Dís,_

_Daughter of Thráin, Son of Thrór, Princess of the Line of Durin._

_Brother!_

_What have you done now?_

_I am so tempted to go to Erebor and thump Daín. How dare he do this to my boys. The only good thing about this it that I don’t have to sneak away to see my boys. I will attend their Weddings and have a chance to get to know their One’s._

_Alright. Back to business._

_There’s not as many dwarrow from the Blue Hills that want to move to Erebor as first thought. Not if you are not King. Our own Law Keepers have confirmed the Seven Fathers Law and very few dwarrow here hold it against you, giving up the throne for your One. Of those that do, none of them have found their One and a couple I will be very glad to get rid of. I have called for expressions of interest, but have stated that no more than 200 dwarrow will head East. I think we can manage 200 in one caravan, can’t we? I plan to stop at Duillond for a few nights before we enter The Shire. We should be able to get everyone to Bywater for the first night and hope to get them across the Brandywine river the next day. Do you think this feasible or are our maps not correct?_

_Vili’s sister Toli and her husband, Dwagor have chosen to go and as Dwagor is well respected by most, I have asked him to be Caravan Leader. At least I know that Toli will make him listen to the Ranger’s advice._

_It’s a long journey for our people and my advisors and I have decided that the caravan will leave here immediately after the spring melt and the flood-waters recede. This should have the caravan reaching Erebor by late summer to early autumn._

_To give Dwagor (and Toli) a chance to gain some experience in controlling a large group, I am leaving them to administer the Halls here, I am planning a visit to Hobbiton, I want to see my boys. Because there is so much planning to be done, for the caravan, for my new posting and for my little holiday, it looks like I won’t get a chance to leave here for a month yet._

_Oh, how I miss my boys. Give me both a hug for me. I hope they are behaving well? Why haven’t they written to me yet? Did they break their hands?_

_What of Kíli’s One, Tauriel? Your letters were very sparse on details, brother. Please tell me more about her. Her favourite food? Favourite colour? Favourite Gem? Her trade? Her family? Why can’t you tell me any of these?_

_You are a dreadful brother!_

_My love to you all._

_Dís_

 

“Well. We need to go and see the Thain again.” Says Kíli after reading Dís’ letter.

“Why is that, mel min?” asked Tauriel.

“Mother will need somewhere to stay and accommodation at Bindbole isn’t anywhere near ready. And I don’t think it’s too smart an idea to let Bilbo and Mother get too friendly. Do you Uncle?”

“Oh, no. No, no, no. No way is she staying here. We’ll go see Fortimbras tomorrow. We need something set up so that when **_you write to your mother_** tomorrow, you can tell her about it. It has to be in Hobbiton, though.” Snarled Thorin.

“Perhaps we can build something. Is six weeks enough time to build a dwarf-styled smial for her? If we call the Company back?” Tauriel suggested.

“Perfect, Tauriel! We’ll go see Fortimbras tomorrow and you lot can work with Ferumbras drawing ups plans. I’m going head up the raven’s tree and get someone to take a message to Daín telling him he’s as useless as an Orc in a diamond mine.” With that Thorin left the younger folk in Bilbo’s drawing room and went looking for some more meat to take up to the raven’s tree.

 


	11. Bag End and Raven's Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Jenniferelaine
> 
> Bilbo's finally home.

**Bag End and Raven's Tree**

 

The three dwarrow and Tauriel left The Great Smials of Tuckborough just before sunset. Of course it was Highday and many Market stall-holders called a greeting to the Bag End group. It had been a long day negotiating with Fortimbras and Thorin was grateful he had brought the letters from Erebor and The Blue Hills with him. Having to explain to Fortimbras that he had Elrond doctor the contract he had with Bilbo was hard, even harder was telling him why.

Fortimbras was justifiably angry with him. Reparation had to be made and eventually it was decided that Thorin would personally front the cost of having a smial built for the Ereborean Envoy. Thorin agreed on the condition that the title be Dwarrow Envoy, his sister would speak for all dwarrow, not just Erebor. Thorin was not terribly happy that the smial would be next door to Bag End, but the ravens had already claimed the cedar tree in the vacant plot. They could start construction any time on what Fortimbras’ paperwork labelled the Raven's Tree Smial, Fíli thought that a better title than The Dwarf Smial. They all agreed.

After luncheon outside under a willow tree, the younger members of the group started work on a floor plan, they wanted an office with sitting room, a large parlour and kitchen with a number of bedrooms. A master (or in this case mistress) suite including bedroom, bathroom and dressing room. At least 3 dwarrow/hobbit sized rooms, two Men-sized rooms to accommodate Gandalf and any Men or rangers that come to visit. Tauriel suggested two bathrooms, one for dwarrow and hobbits and the other Men-sized. Fíli obviously missed his mother as he suggested a suite of rooms that he, Kíli and Tauriel could share if they wanted to visit, with a parlour, two bedrooms and a bathroom.

While they planned all this Thorin and Fortimbras braved the market place so Thorin could order some furniture suitably sized for dwarrow and some for Men, too. He also spotted some fabric that he knew Dís would like and arranged for a set of curtains and a duvet to match. Some plates and a delicate Tea service were a must have for any Envoy and he approached the stall-holder matron, after being shown many different patterns, he decided on a simple design, white with Durin blue trim and gold edging. By that time his patience was running low, so he and Fortimbras set off back to The Great Smials. Dís could choose anything else she wanted when she got here, he’d done the basics.

Many hours after arriving, they were finally heading for Bag End, their pack pony well laden.

 

It was well after Tea and darkness was close when Master Bilbo Baggins, also known as The Burglar Baggins, finally rounded the last bend and Bag End came into sight.

Too many hobbits had spoken to him on his way home and while that wasn’t unusual, it seemed they had him mixed up with someone else. Questions about Courting, Weddings, Gifts, intended’s, husbands, nephews, brides, Woods… he had no idea what was going on. He wasn’t getting married and he had no siblings to give him nephews. It was all too much. He just thanked everyone for the greeting and kept Dove headed for home.

He nudged Dove into the vacant plot next to Bag End and he heard a bird screech for a moment or two, but was just too tired to care. He stripped the saddle and gear off his little mare and gave her a cursory rub down, all he wanted was to fall into his own bed. No more strange beds, no more bed rolls, no more questions, no more not being home.

The little hobbit pulled a plank across the hole in the hedge as he made his way to his smial. Up the steps and in the door. He dropped his pack on the entrance floor and hung his cloak on the pegs with the others. He pushed boots aside to stand Sting in the corner with his shield. A few more steps had him in the kitchen, noting that the stove was lit he turned the tap for hot water to the bathroom and while he ran a bath he raided the pantry for a snack. A scone, a sausage or two and some cold roast potatoes were washed down with a large mug of fresh milk. By that point the tub was filled and Bilbo quickly stripped himself of his dirty travel clothes, kicking them into the corner of the room to deal with later, he sunk into the hot water. It took a while but eventually he was warm throughout and began to scrub. Once clean he pulled the plug from the tub and heaved himself to his feet. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stumbled in the direction of his room.

Pulling the great black fur coat off the bed, he slid under the covers and was asleep in seconds.

 

Less than an hour later Thorin, his nephews and Tauriel, reached Bag End as twilight was giving way to darkness. Fíli stopped at the gate and held up a fist. The two other dwarrow came to a halt. All of them looked at Bag End, the door was wide open and there was a light in the kitchen.

Had one of the dwarrow from Bindbole come to visit?

They made their way cautiously to the door. Thorin entered first, Kíli close behind him. It was Fíli who came last and he bumped something with a boot. Looking down he saw a familiar travel pack.

“Thorin. Look.” He said pointing to the pack.

“Here, look, here. This must be Bilbo’s cloak.” Kíli ran his fingers over the fur pelmet.

Thorin held up Sting.

“He is home.”

“Then where is he?” Asked Kíli.

“We’ll spread out and look.” Said Thorin.

“Quietly.” Said Tauriel, “He could be asleep.”

With that Kíli and Fíli went to the kitchen and pantry, Thorin figured that his fastidious little burglar would want to be clean, so he went looking in the bathroom. Tauriel however, remembered what Thorin had told her about how home was so important and she went straight to the master bedroom.

Fíli found a empty bowl that had held cold roasted potatoes that morning.

Kíli found a plate with crumbs on it and empty mug on the kitchen table.

Thorin found a pile of dirty clothes in the corner of the bathroom.

Tauriel found Bilbo.

Peeking around the edge of the doorframe, Tauriel saw that Bilbo was facedown on the bed, the covers pulled nearly to his bare shoulders. His riotous mass of curls spread across the pillow like a wave of ruffled silk. She made her way back to the parlour, meeting Thorin as he came down the hall from the bathroom.

“He’s in bed. Asleep.”

Thorin turned on his heel and headed for the bedroom, Kíli and Fíli had heard Tauriel speak and were only feet behind him. Thorin moved across the room, his fingers finding flesh and silken hair. The young dwarrow stood in the doorway and watched.

“Hmmf. Sleepin’. Go ‘way.” Bilbo groaned.

Thorin stroked Bilbo’s hair once more before leaving him to sleep. He ushered his nephews out and pulled the door almost closed behind him.

 

Sunlight bathed Bilbo's face with warmth. He scrunched his nose and tried to bury his face in the fluffy pillow.

“Too early. Go back to sleep.” The pillow rumbled.

Bilbo drifted for a bit, something nagged him, but he couldn’t figure it out. He climbed out of bed and dressed quietly, once in the kitchen he made a pot of tea. When he’d had one cup he thought about reading over the notes he’d made while in Rivendell and deciding to do just that, he got to his feet and crossed into the parlour and through to the entrance hall. He reached for his pack and turned back to the parlour, something nagging. A bow leaning against the wall made him freeze. He knew that bow and he knew the quiver of arrows beside it. He spun back to the entrance hall. Finally he realised what was nagging him. Boots. Dwarrow boots in his hallway.

Why were there dwarrow boots in his hallway?

Why were there dwarrow cloaks hanging on pegs in his hallway?

Why was there a dwarrow bow and quiver in his parlour?

Now he began to think more clearly.

Where did the food in his pantry come from?

How was the kitchen stove lit last night?

Why was the kitchen lamp lit last night?

Why wasn’t his front door locked when he arrived?

 

Why were there **_DWARROW BOOTS IN HIS HALLWAY_**?

 

His eyes widened comically and dropping his pack, he practically ran to the guest bedrooms. The first had a blonde dwarf sleeping, almost falling off the bed. The second had a red-headed elf curled around a raven-haired dwarf, both holding each other’s hands.

Bilbo trembled as he approached his bedroom, scared at what he might find. The covers of Bilbo's bed had slipped down when he climbed out of it earlier and now barely covered the dignity of the dwarf in it. Mussed dark hair shot with silver fanned across a pillow as the dwarf slept. Bilbo crept closer, wondering if he had finally lost his mind. The dwarf on his bed rolled to his back and stretched his arms out. Bilbo’s eyes followed the movement and catalogued the scars visible. The largest was up high on the left side of the chest, it was a still healing but healthy pink of fresh scar tissue. As his eyes climbed higher they saw a vicious but well healed slice to the top of the shoulder, before reaching the dwarf’s face.

Thorin.

Bilbo turned and went back to the kitchen for another cup of tea, he needed it. Going into the parlour to get his pack he noticed a pile of open letters on the table under the window. Curiosity got the better of him and he picked them up.

10 minutes later he had found the letter from Gandalf and now stood in the door to his room and looked at the not-so-dead dwarf in his bed.

Alive. All three of them were alive.

All three of them were in Bag End.

Hmf.

Time for breakfast.

If he could face wrath of a Dragon for the Line of Durin, then the Line of Durin could face the peculiarity of Bag End for him. A Wicked smile grew on Bilbo’s face as he remembered that peculiarity.

 

When Bungo Baggins built the smial for Belladonna Took as a Courting Gift, he’d employed the very best of Hobbit craftsmen, as a result Bag End was a smial second only to The Great Smials of Tuckborough. When Bilbo was just a wee fauntling Belladonna discovered that there was just one spot on the wall in the kitchen, that if you hit it just right, it echoed in all the rooms like a crash of a great drum.

Bilbo planned to use it.

 

He raided the pantry and set about preparing a breakfast fit for not-dead dwarrow former-royalty.

Sausages, bacon, scones, tea and lastly potato omelettes. Sliding the last omelette onto the platter, Bilbo reached out a hand and smacked it against the kitchen wall in the exact spot that his mother had used. Bag End literally shook, the crash echoing around the rooms and hallways.

Screams and cries sounded in four very different voices and beings came running from different directions. Kíli and Tauriel from the East wing. Fíli came from the West wing and Thorin ran through Bilbo's study instead of going out the door to back hall and through the west hall.

Tauriel and Kíli both had knives drawn, while Fíli had both his short swords. Thorin had Ocrist drawn.

“No weapons in the kitchen, please.” Bilbo said as they clustered at the door.

“Bilbo? _Bilbo!_ ” Fíli dropped his swords and ran to hug Bilbo, Kíli only a step behind him, heedless of the knives still in his hands. Tauriel came in and after relieving Kíli of both knives, she too, gathered the hobbit and the dwarrow still holding him, into her arms. Thorin stood at the door and looked on.

After a minute or so, Bilbo reminded them that there was food on the table. Fíli and Kíli quickly sat down and started filling their plates, they knew what Bilbo's food was like and encouraged Tauriel to join them.

When the others sat Thorin entered the kitchen and stopped an arms length from Bilbo. He didn’t know what to say now.

Bilbo took that one more step and reaching up, took hold of Thorin’s braids and pulled him down, he pressed his cheek to Thorin’s and wrapped his arms around the dwarf’s neck. Slowly Thorin’s arms rose to encircle Bilbo’s waist.

He held Bilbo in his arms.

His burglar.

His One.

Thorin shuddered and held on tight.

A gurgle sounded as Bilbo’s stomach reminded him that it was empty and there was food to be had.

He could yell at Thorin later. Food first.

 


	12. Time for Some Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, sorry, wasn't expecting a history lesson, but... It just happened.

**Time for Some Explanations**

 

Breakfast was a jolly affair. Tauriel’s introduction to Bilbo’s cooking was well underway. The surprised pleasure on her face had the three dwarrow laughing.

“Bilbo’s cooking is very fine.” Said Kíli.

“Hmm. Yffs, idf imm.” Fíli mumbles and Tauriel smacks on the back of the head.

“What…?”

This time Fíli swallowed before answering.

“I said, Yes it is.”

Notting more is said for a while, everyone enjoying the food on their plates.

 

After a bit they move to the parlour and the more comfortable seating to be had there. The first question from Bilbo is, of course, about the wellbeing of the dwarrow in his smial.

“Your injuries? Has Oín seen to them?” When the three dwarrow nodded, Bilbo continued. “How long ago? What did he say?”

“Oín was here day before yesterday. Uncle is fully healed, but Fíli is still on light-duties yet. Kíli however… Kíli re-cracked his ribs two and half weeks ago and is not allowed to do anything that requires lifting this arms above his head.” Tauriel ignored the discord her assessment brought.

Interesting. Tauriel had taken to calling Thorin ‘Uncle’, interesting indeed.

“You lot, shut yer mouths. Tauriel, continue, please.” Bilbo overrode the dwarrow and they knew better than to argue with a mothering Bilbo.

“Certainly, Master Baggins. Oín-”

“Stop. From what I gather from the letters left littering my smial, you my dear are be Courted by Kíli. Yes?”

“Yes.” The answer came from Thorin, surprisingly enough.

“Thank you, Thorin. Also from those same letters I understand that I am being Courted by Thorin, **_without my knowledge I might add_**.” Thorin winced at Bilbo’s tone. “Thorin is Kíli’s uncle and if these Courtships continue that will make us family, my dear elf. So… enough with the Master Baggins and call me Bilbo.”

“What do you mean ‘ **IF’**? There’s no **‘if’** involved.” Thorin growled. The other three also growled and grumbled in disagreement of Bilbo’s statement.

 **“Atk** **ât!”**

There was silence, the three dwarrow and the elf looked at the Hobbit in various degrees of emotion, ranging from amusement to shock.

“Khuzdul. That’s Khuzdul. Where did you learn Khuzdul? Bilbo?” Thorin’s voice was very quiet. Too quiet. If you knew him well, you knew quiet was dangerous and sometimes unpredictable.

“Gandalf, of course.”

“Gandalf? Gandalf can speak Khuzdul?” asked Fíli.

“Well, of course he can.” Replied Bilbo.

“Who taught him? Where did he learn it?” Thorin was still growling.

“Durin IV taught him when they were both at Rivendell.”

“What?! Why would Durin IV have been in Rivendell?!” Kíli exploded.

“It was before the Sauron tried to reclaim control over the Rings of Power. All the Kings - Dwarrow, Men and Elves met every other year in a Council of Kings to discuss treaties and trade. That sort of thing. It wasn’t that long after Cirdan the Elven Shipwright gave Gandalf the Ring Narya.”

“Council? Rings of Power?” Bilbo, what are you talking about?” Thorin just sounded puzzled now.

Bilbo chanted the verse that Gandalf had taught him,

_“Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,_

_Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,_

_Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,_

_One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne,_

_In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie._

_One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,_

_One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them_

_In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.”_

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“The elves were given three Rings of Power. Galadriel got one, Nenya, and Gil-galad the other two. In turn he gave one to Elrond, Vilya, and the other he gave to Cirdan. Hmm? Maybe that’s where Thranduil’s issues started, Gil-galad didn’t think his father, Oropher, wise enough to bear a Ring of Power, maybe he was right… Anyway, eventually Cirdan gave Narya to Gandalf. As for the Rings given to the Dwarf-Lords, four of the Rings have been consumed by Dragons, two Sauron has taken and the last was worn by your grandfather Thráin. It is now lost with him.” Bilbo said to the two young dwarrow.

“Thráin? But-?... Never mind. Why would Durin IV have taught Gandalf Khuzdul? It’s forbidden to teach outsiders.”

“He taught Gandalf before it was forbidden. When Sauron tried to conquer Middle-Earth, he started a war that ended at The Battle of Dagorlad, this was the end of the Council of Kings. Oropher and another elf Amdir ignored Gil-galad’s orders and attacked early. There’s no way of knowing but this may have caused Sauron of put on the One Ring. What is known is that as soon as he did that the three wearing the elven Rings, Galadriel, Elrond and Cirdan ‘Felt’ what he intended and simply removed theirs, the nine Kings of Men didn’t and became the Nazgûl, the Ring Wraiths. The Dwarf-Lords weren’t as susceptible, but they’d already lost four to dragons and Sauron never stopped trying to get the other three. Eventually he got two of these, but the Line of Durin was just too strong and until Smaug attacked Erebor there seemed little chance that he ever would. Quite probably that’s the only reason Smaug even knew about Erebor, after all, dragons are creatures of Morgoth.”

Kíli and Fíli were sitting close paying attention, they remembered spending hours in the evenings around campfire listening to Bilbo tell stories.

“Did he tell you about the Battle? Tell us about the Battle, Bilbo, please?”

“No lads. Gandalf wasn’t there. He and the other istari weren’t there. Sauron had once been an istari called Mairon, but had turned to evil and become the student of Morgoth, taking the name Annatar long enough to trick the elves into making the Rings of Power, once they had, he made the One Ring himself and took the name Sauron and control of his fallen masters armies.” Bilbo stopped long enough to take a couple sips of tea before continuing.

“There were armies from all the great races, dwarrow, elves and men. Only the Silvan elves lead by Oropher objected to being lead by Gil-galad. Even the host from Khazad-dûm followed him. The Battle raged for months before Gil-galad and Elendil, the King of Gondor, gained control enough to push Suaron’s armies back through the Black Gates. The Battle claimed many lives, many good lives, including that of Oropher. This was the beginning of the end of the Last Alliance of Middle Earth.”

Bilbo stood and returned to the kitchen.

“Enough of the history lessons. I want to know. Where are the rest of the company? Do they know you are alive? Courting? Courting, Thorin? Really? No. No, that can wait.”

The hobbit entered the parlour with a tray and tea makings, sitting down in chair again.

“Is anyone going to answer my questions?” He queried.

The next couple of hours were used to bring Bilbo up to date with the recent history of one Thorin Oakenshield, his nephews and Company.

 

“So you lied to Fortimbras?”

“Yes.” Thorin winced as he said this.

“What did he demand as reparation?” Bilbo frowned.

“We agreed that I would front the cost of a new smial suitable for the Dwarrow Envoy to The Shire.” Thorin grimaced as Bilbo screamed.

“WHAT?!”

Thorin was quick to reassure him that he had offered and Fortimbras had agreed.

“That. Doesn’t. Matter. He had no right.”

“He did. He spoke as the head of your Family, not as the Thain of The Shire, Bilbo. We kept it a private matter between a two Courting parties.” Thorin tried to head off an argument.

“Hmmf. Still not sure I approve, but it appears I have no say in this. So? Where is this new smial to be built?”

“Next door. The vacant block of land with the Cedar tree. We spent the day yesterday getting Fortimbras’ approval and drawing up plans. We were going to go up to the Bindbole site today and ask the Company to come and build it for us.”

“No.”

“No? what do you mean ‘no’? Why not?” Kíli didn’t understand, why wouldn’t Bilbo want the Company to do this?

“Thorin, you and your dwarrow are great miners and builders, but you work in stone. The hills of the Shire aren’t stone. It takes a very unique skill-set to build a smial in the soil of the Shire. It might be a good idea to have a couple of the smial-crafters come and make sure the roots of the tree won’t interfere with the structure. If the smial is moved around the bend a little further, it won’t matter so much and there’s a plateaued area on the other side of the road that could be used as a stable area. If Dís is to be Dwarroven Envoy, then there’ll a lot of visitors to the smial. A stable area would be an asset. It would need a stable yard, stables and pasture access. None of that can be underground. Being for the Dwarroven Envoy it should be built in the dwarrow-style, which means it will have to be built **_by_** dwarrow. Hobbits rarely build above ground and when we do, we tend to build in timber. So for the best and fastest build, let the hobbits use their skill in the soft earth and have the dwarrow build in hard stone.”

“Hmm. As always, Master hobbit, you provide sound advice.”

“Thorin! I thought we were past you ‘Master Hobbit’-ing me?” Teased Bilbo.

“Indeed we are, Bilbo, indeed we are.” Chuckled the dwarf.

“What about the tree itself, Bilbo. The ravens have claimed it and now use it as a rookery. They won’t be keen to move from it.” Fíli interjected.

“And why should they? There’s no reason for them to move. All that’s needed is a shelter for them for the winter. While winters in the Shire are milder than Erebor, we still get a good coating of snow and that tree is awfully exposed to winds. A shelter for the colder months where ravens can nest, rest and recover from the long flight from Erebor and the Iron Hills would be a benefit. To the ravens themselves, but also to the Envoy in dealing with stubborn, mule-headed dwarrows fretting about their birds.”

Bilbo jumped to his feet and scramble for his pack.

“That reminds me. I have something for you, Thorin.”

“A Gift?”

“Yes. Well… Not exactly. More returning something lost.” With that Bilbo carefully placed the canvas wrapped item in Thorin’s lap.

Thorin looked at the bundle and with trepidation undid the strings tying the canvas. As the string was removed, canvas sagged and slid. Thorin’s breath caught.

“My shield. You found my shield. Oh, Bilbo. Thank you, thank you. I have missed this so. I have felt exposed without it.” There were tears in Thorin’s eye at being reunited with something so valued.

“Well, that’s about to get worse.” Bilbo then turned to Fíli. “Fíli, I would like you, Kíli and Tauriel to head up to Bindbole now. Thorin and I have a lot to discuss and I sincerely doubt that any of you want to be here for that. Oh, and be a dear, Tauriel if you would, would you be so kind as to pass this to Holman Gamgee before heading north? Thank you my dear.” While talking Bilbo had gotten to his feet and gone to the desk under the window. Taking a piece of paper and a quill in hand, he quickly wrote out a note to Holman asking him to speak to the smial-crafters and have two of them present at Bag End the next morning.

“And when you get to Bindbole, tell that bunch of stone blind idiots, that I expect them here for lunch tomorrow. Explain to them what’s going to be happening and DON’T let them come here today. Now. Off you go.”

Bilbo puttered off to wash the dishes.

“Ah, Bilbo?” Thorin tensed, waiting for he-knew-not-what.

“Please wait until the children have left, Thorin.” Bilbo replied and continued with the dishes.

A few minutes later after waving to Bilbo through the kitchen window, Fíli, Kíli and Tauriel rounded the bend in the direction of Bindbole and the new dwarrow settlement-in-the-making. Seconds after loosing sight of Bag End, Bilbo’s voice could be heard ringing across the valley.

 **_“COURTING?! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME WE WERE COURTING? WHAT IN THE NAME OF ER_** **_Ú WERE YOU THINKING?!”_ **


	13. Time for Some Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Râmi-kali-kasto = man happy gift (literal translation from Westron), abstract meaning, ‘gift of being man happy’ or gay in English, commonly said as Kali-kasto.

**Time for Some Explanations**

 

Bilbo’s voice could be heard ringing across the valley.

**_“COURTING?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME WE WERE COURTING? WHAT IN THE NAME OF ER_ ** **_Ú WERE YOU THINKING?!”_ **

“Now Bilbo-”

“Don’t you ‘now Bilbo’ me you stubborn dwarf. **_Answer me!”_**

“I **_couldn’t_**. Not until the contract was ended.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because the burglar was to be an outsider. So Balin used a military contract and we couldn’t give you any information about any traditions not military or weapons related. The Courting Formalities definitely come under ‘not relevant’, no matter how I wished otherwise.”

“Well, that might explain the contract, but it doesn’t explain why you couldn’t have said it to one of the others when I could hear.”

“But you were under my protection, a dwarf cannot Court someone under their protection, its considered a breach of trust.”

“You could have said you would want to Court me after we reclaimed Erebor.”

“No. I couldn’t.”

“Damn it! **_Why. Not_**?”

“The Courting Formalities. The first Formality is the Family Gift, it’s made by **_my_** Family for **_your_** Family and until it’s given and accepted, I could not ask the Thain for permission to Court you. **_BUT_** until I **_had_** his permission, **_I NOT ALLOWED TO ASK YOU_**. It’s just not done and given **_who I was_** , I **_had_** to follow the Courting Laws. I had no choice. I’m sorry, Bilbo, just had no choice. Not if I wanted you beside me.”

“That might explain why you didn’t tell me but what did Daín’s letter mean about the seven fathers law?”

“The Seven Fathers are the first seven dwarrow that Mahal created, they set our Laws, the one Daín was talking about is the Consort Law.

_‘No Dwarrow King can take to himself_

_a Consort that is not born of a dwarrowdam.’_

Mahal showed the Seven Fathers how to carve children from stone and with prayers to Mahal, if they were well-carved as all dwarrow should be, then Mahal would give them life. Many of the first dwarrow were carven dwarrow, not born, the Law meant they couldn’t be Consort.”

Unbeknown to the two beings in the parlour, they had garnered an audience that gathered on the path in from of Bag End. Fortimbras hushing everyone as they got close. Inside the debate continued.

“That’s ridiculous. Why should there be any difference between carven and born dwarrow?”

“A born dwarf had a mother’s love grown into it in the womb, but a carven dwarf is harder and sharper, not as giving as one born flesh.”

“Again still stupid. Many hobbit parents choose to grow their babes instead of birthing them, it makes no difference in the love of a parent.”

“Grow? What do you mean grow?”

“We’re people of the earth, all hobbits garden, what else would grow but children? Honestly, dwarf, maybe I should grow you a **_brain!”_** Bilbo’s voice was raised again.

“ ** _Fine_**! Grow me a brain then. It won’t change the Consort Law. The Law won’t let you sit beside me as Consort. The boys and I had already been declared dead, so we decided to stay dead. All of us. Fíli could not have coped without his brother at his side and if he’d taken the crown then Kíli would have been Heir, but again, the Consort Law wouldn’t let him have Tauriel at his side. We talked it through with Balin, Dwalin and Lady Galadriel an decided to stay dead. Ok? Understand now? I gave up the crown to be with you. I **_did_** what I set out to do. I reclaimed Erebor **_for_** **_my people_**. I owed them that. Now I owe myself the love that my people would deny me. **_I owe Erebor nothing anymore. Nothing.”_**

“You shouldn’t have given it up for **_me_**.”

“Well, I **_did_**.”

“Stubborn dwarf!”

“Infuriating hobbit.”

Bilbo and Thorin stood toe to toe, snarling at each other. The hobbits outside holding their breath in fear of what would come next.

Seconds passed and Thorin’s lips twitched. Bilbo’s lips parted and his chin quivered. Laughter burst from both mouths, they leant on each other to stay upright. Slowly the atmosphere in the parlour changed.

Bilbo looked at Thorin. Thorin looked at Bilbo. Nothing more was said. One head dipped and one chin rose. Lips met and two throats sighed.

Outside, silence sat, Holman Gamgee’s eldest son Hamfast, had crept up the bank and the window. He raised his head to peek into the parlour. The gathered hobbits saw him blush nearly scarlet red as he very quickly retreated.

“Well, what’s happening? Do we need to rescue Bilbo?” asked his mother, Lillybelle.

“He… They… Clothes… Floor.” Poor Hamfast could hardly get a word out.

Oh, dear.

 

Fortimbras quietly hustled the gathered hobbits away. Initially they went quietly, but of course that couldn’t last. No one was very surprised that it was Lobelia Sacksville-Baggins that made the first complaint.

“It’s not right. The dwarf has shouldn’t have been allowed into Bag End.” She started.

Fortimbras lost all tolerance for the woman.

“Lobelia Bracegirdle! That’s enough! What is you problem with Bilbo Baggins?”

The hobbit woman stood with hands on hips and faced the Thain.

“Bag End should have a family in it. Not just o-”

“Lobelia. I repeat. What is your problem with Bilbo Baggins?”

“The smial was-“

“Lobelia! You will answer my question. NOW!”

Lobelia jumped.

Suddenly it all made sense to Fortimbras, how Lobelia hated Bilbo.

“Oh, dear. You tried to court him, didn’t you Lobelia?”

Lobelia was struck silent for a moment before giving way.

“Yes!” she snarled. “But he wouldn’t even acknowledge me. He always thought he was so much better that me. Just because he’s a Baggins, doesn’t mean-“

“That not it Lobelia.”

“Yes it is!”

“No Lobelia. You’re a lass, a woman. Bilbo wouldn’t acknowledge you, because he wouldn’t have seen you. As a tween and young man, Bilbo saw only other boys and men. He’s always been Râmi-kali-kasto.”

“What?! Bilbo? No. Surely not?” Lobelia was shocked, could that really have been all it was?

“Yes. He even asked me approach your father Blanco to see if Bruno might be receptive to being courted. But by that stage Bruno had shown interest in courting Daisy Bogmyrtle. It wasn’t just you he ignored, Lobelia, he did the same to Ginny Cotton, Rosie, Dunwallow and Marise Skipton. And that’s just the lass’ here in Hobbiton.” The Thain told her.

“He’s a good man, Lobelia.” Said Lillybelle. “He would not ignore anyone, IF he saw them.”

Poor Lobelia. Her whole world had been turned around. She’d blamed someone for something they not only hadn’t done but weren’t even aware of. She felt ill.

“I-I didn’t realise. I didn’t know.” She murmured.

“The dwarf? Is he trying to take advantage of our Bilbo or is he courting? I know he said they were courting, but.. that’s not any type of courtship I’ve ever seen.” Said Magnolia Brown, Hobbiton’s resident herbalist.

Fortimbras knew he wasn’t breaking any traditions by telling those huddled under the Party Tree, but he felt a little like he was exposing Bilbo and Thorin to scrutiny. But if it would help Hobbiton accept Thorin as Bilbo’s husband? Well, he didn’t think they’d be too upset. At least, he hoped so.

 

A few hours later Marigold and Halfred Gamgee watched as Lobelia Sacksville-Baggins walked past their front yard headed for Bag End, that wasn’t something new, but the look on her face was. They didn’t know what to call it, but their Mama wore the same expression whenever they, Papa or one of their sisters or brother were sick or hurt. Marigold went inside to tell Mama while Halfred snuck after Missus Sacksville-Baggins.

He didn’t get much further than the first corner and Mama was storming past.

“Back home please, Halfred.”

Halfred happily went back to help Marigold plant her strawberries. He didn’t like Missus Sacksville-Baggins, she was nasty. Mama wasn’t back when Papa was to go to the garden of the Cotton’s on Woody End Lane and made them all go with him.

She was there when they got home, the smial smelt of honey cakes and apple tarts.

“Well?” said Papa.

“Yes.” Replied Mama. “All is well in Bag End. Finally.” Mama and Papa smiled.

 

Later that evening Fíli, Kíli and Tauriel cautiously made their way back to Bag End. Everyone at Bindbole was pleased that Bilbo was home, but Dwalin expressed doubts about how calm things would be back in Hobbiton. Bets were taken, only Fíli, Kíli and Tauriel unable to wager. Balin told Fíli to tell Bilbo that the Company would be pleased to come for lunch. They wouldn’t bring their tools until they’d seen the site for the Dwarrow Envoy’s Smial and the plans for the outbuildings.

The she-elf smiled at how hesitantly the two dwarf-princes approached the green door. Upon opening the door they could hear Bilbo’s voice coming from the study.

“Oh quit being such a babe. How on Arda did you get it all knotted like this?”

The three very quietly, or as quiet as two dwarrow and an elf could be, snuck up on the door of the study, nervous at just what they would find.

Bilbo was standing on Thorin.

Thorin lay on the floor of the study, flat on this stomach with his head resting on a rolled up towel. Bilbo had one hand out balancing himself against a bookshelf. Bilbo was also standing on Thorin’s back, grinding his toes into the muscles of his shoulders.

“Uh? Bilbo? What are you doing?” Kíli asked in a very confused voice.

“After luncheon, Thorin was complaining that the back of his shoulder ached. I offered to massage it for him, but apparently hobbit fingers aren’t strong enough to get into the muscles properly. After a bit of a think, we decided that maybe hobbit toes were strong enough, there was some trial and error, but here we are. Oh, yes, there’s the snarl.” With that Bilbo went up onto his toes and started to twist his feet, digging into one particular spot just above Thorin’s right shoulder blade. Thorin groaned and tensed for a few seconds before going completely limp with an almost sensual sigh.

The hobbit stepped down from the dwarf’s back and knelt at his side, his fingers ran across the same spot he’d just had his toes jammed into and nodded.

“Yes, that’s got it. You just rest there for a bit, while I make some tea.” He got to his feet and left the study, the other three following him.

“Is Uncle alright? He’s not hurt is he?” Fíli was always going to be protective of his brother and uncle.

“Yes, yes. He’s fine. Just a after-effect of getting the forge ready and then having a screaming match this morning.”

“A screaming match?” Kíli was grinning.

“Oh, yes.”

“How’d he do?” Kíli was trying his best not to laugh, really he was. Truly.

“He lost.”

Kíli lost the fight, he starting laughing and just couldn’t stop, the idea that Thorin had lost a screaming match and to a hobbit of all people. Hilarious.

“Really?” Fíli was about to start laughing too.

“Well, of course. No one wins a screaming match with a Took. And while I may be half Baggins, I have decided to embrace my Took-ish side, so… He lost.” Bilbo bustled around the kitchen, sending Tauriel into the pantry for flour and eggs.

“We’ll have some scones and ginger cake for tea. Tauriel would you like to help?” Bilbo never let anyone help in his kitchen. Ever.

“I’d be honoured, Bilbo. But I’m not sure how much help I can be, I’ve never done any baking.” The redhead answered.

“Well, now’s the time to learn. That dwarf of yours likes sweets, so you need to know how to make them. Oh, word of advice, lass, if you want something edible, don’t let Kíli make it, get Fíli instead.” Tauriel laughed, she’d already learnt that the hard way.

Domestic bliss reigned in Bag End, until there was a knock at the door.

Bilbo warily made his way to the door, he’d had enough surprises, what with Lobelia coming and apologising for her behaviour. When she’d took him why she had been that way, he’s be dumbfounded, he’d had no idea that she or any other lass had even looked in his direction let alone thought of courting him.

When Bilbo opened his door, he saw Missus Amelia Goodchilde and standing behind her, her apprentice Miss Joy Fields.

“Missus Goodchilde, Miss Fields. Good afternoon. What brings you to Bag End on a lovely day like this?” Bilbo wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing they were at his door or not.

“Mr Baggins. Good afternoon. Fortimbras Took was in town this morning, I overheard he and Lobelia talking. They mentioned that you are courting, Mr Baggins. Is this correct?” Missus Goodchilde was formidable gossip, but if there was a shred of doubt to be had, she would always approach the person involved and verify the details for herself. She prided herself on telling not only the freshest news, but also the truth. As she was the finest seamstress Hobbiton had seen in many generations, all of Hobbiton made allowances.

“Ah. Yes, Missus Goodchilde. Thorin Oakenshield has asked for my hand and we are courting. As are Tauriel Greenwood and Kíli Fox-Nero.”

“Good, Mr Baggins, that is good news. May we come in, we would like to discuss some details, particularly with Miss Greenwood?”

“Certainly ladies. Shall we go into the parlour? Tauriel would you show the ladies in please. I’ll get us some tea and the cakes should be ready by now.”

Leaving Tauriel with the ladies, Bilbo hurried to the kitchen to rescue the cakes from the greedy hands of the two lads eyeing them off. He made up a plate of scones and cake, three large mugs of tea, these he handed to Fíli and Kíli and sent them off to the study to share with Thorin.

Back in the parlour, he laid the tea tray on the low table and placed a plate near each of the ladies, before pouring tea into the delicate little cups he used for guests. Tauriel picked up another cup in the same style and pattern, but much more her size. The four talked weather and gardening for a minutes before Missus Goodchilde put her cup down carefully.

“Miss Greenwood, am I to understand that Mr Baggins has declared you under his care, that your mother is no longer living?”

“Yes, Missus Goodchilde. My mother departed this world many years ago. I had until recently been the ward of Thranduil of Greenwood. However, when Master Kíli asked to Court me, Thranduil felt that I would be happier here with Mr Baggins. As Kíli and I intend to make a home here in the Shire, it was decided that we would be wed here.”

“But Mr Baggins only arrived home yesterday and you’ve been here with these dwarves for weeks now, it was thought that you were already wed, if we had known we would have spoken to you sooner.”

“Missus Goodchilde, Tauriel has been travelling under the protection of Kíli’s uncle, my intended, Thorin Oakenshield. As I was unable to travel with them due to assisting Gandalf the Grey, Thranduil asked if she would prefer an escort of elven guards or if she felt safe enough to travel with Thorin and his Company, many of which have come to regard Tauriel as a sister or niece. The Company are highly reputed and respected, if sadly lacking in proper manners. Be assured that she was a safe with them as if her mother had travelled with them.”

“Good, I am pleased to hear this. A lass should never have to be unattended, she may be by choice, but should never by coercion. Now Miss Tauriel, when is the Wedding to be and what are you wearing?”

From there the discussion continued, however Bilbo excused himself a few minutes later, dresses were _not_ his forte.


	14. Dís Arrives

**Dís Arrives**

 

“So this is the Shire?” The dwarf said to themself as they encouraged a pony across the little bridge in the middle of Hobbiton. “It’s very pretty. However did they convince the Burglar to leave it?”

Following directions from a map sent by that same Burglar, the dwarf continued up a path signposted as ‘Bagshot Row’. The pony was gently eased to a halt when the sound of a hammer hitting an anvil could heard from the creek-bank off to the left. The pony was turned in that direction and allowed to take a few steps before a dwarf head shook and the pony was resolutely turned back onto Bagshot Row. If anyone had been close enough they would have heard the dwarf mutter.

“He can wait.”

Quietly the dwarf tied the pony to the fence at the gate of Bag End. Once in the gate the dwarf took the steps, still quietly. A dwarf hand knocked firmly on that green round door and waited. It took only a few seconds for the sound of approaching feet to be heard and the door to open.

Bilbo Baggins looked at the dwarf standing on his front stoop. Raven-dark hair, fine beard, stunning sapphire eyes. All these things he attributed to his intended, could easily apply to this dwarf, bar one thing. This dwarf’s beard was long enough to have braids, two delicate braids, just in front of her ears, hers, because this could be none other than Dís.

Dís.

Dís. Thorin’s sister. She’s early.

Oh, well. Start as you mean to go on.

“You’re early. We weren’t expecting you for another week. Good thing the smial-crafters are finished. Well, come on in.” With that Bilbo turned from a startled Dís and gestured for her to follow him inside.

Dís stood for a moment before shaking her head and following the little hobbit inside.

“Boots off and shut the door behind you, please. Nearly elevensies, that batch of scones should be just about ready, we’ll have them with tea. I’ll just have to do some more for luncheon.” As Dís entered the kitchen, she wondered how this fussy little hobbit could have possibly caught the attention of her brother. Small, fussy, big fee-

As she entered the kitchen her should bumped the end of a dresser, a cup rattled and fell. Before Dís could react, the little hobbit had jumped forward and before the cup could hit the floor, one of his long feet had slid under it and tossed it back into the air, where a swift but tiny hand plucked it out of the air.

Fast, he was very fast. But still… small. Impolite, too.

“Are you Master Baggins?” she finally asked.

“Well, of course I am.” He spluttered.

“There were no introductions, Master Baggins. I am-”

“You’re Dís, of course. Being Thorin’s sister and mother of my boys, this makes you family. Why on earth would we need to be introduced to family? Absurd, just absurd.” Bilbo shook his head.

“Now, have you seen your brother or did you come straight here to interrogate me?” he asked as the kettle started to boil.

“Straight here, of course. How else was I to get a chance to talk to you without him around. My brother only tells me what he wants me to know.” Dís replied with a smirk.

“Hmm. Well. What do you want to know?” As he talked to Dís Bilbo was taking piping hot scones from the oven.

“Everything. But let’s start at the beginning, Master Baggins, with you meeting Thorin.” Dís nodded her thanks as Bilbo slid a scone onto a plate in front of her.

“Dís. Your sons call me Uncle Bilbo, it’s a bit formal of you to call me Master Baggins if they call me uncle isn’t it? Bilbo if you please. Hmm. If you want to start at the beginning, then it starts way before Thorin.” Bilbo smiled in reflection.

“Wherever you wish then, Bilbo. Tell me a story.” She smiled.

“It all started with a wizard….”

 

“They came running from every hallway, Fíli had both swords drawn, Kíli had a knife in each hand, as did Tauriel. Thorin had Orcrist in hand. What use is a sword in a smial? Couldn’t even swing the damn thing in here. I barely had a chance to say ‘no weapons in the kitchen’ before I was sandwiched between the boys, Tauriel had to take Kíli’s knives off him, he’d forgotten they were in his hands. Silly boys.”

Thorin entered the smial to hear Bilbo telling of his arrival home.

“Scared the blazes out of us, he did, making the smial sound like Gandalf had let lose a thunderstorm inside. He wasn’t due home for another few day, so when we walked in the night before and Fíli tripped over-…” Thorin rounded the corner to the kitchen and his voice trailed off. “Dís?”

Thorin and Dís looked at each other for second, finally they started to move. Dís leapt from her seat and Thorin surged across the empty space to meet his sister. They collided in a tangle of arms and hair, holding tight. When Dís leant back Thorin let his arms loosen about her.

“Oh, my brother. My thundercloud. Oh, how I’ve missed you.”

“Dís. My sweet raven, my sister. I’m sorry, so sorry.”

The two continued in this manner for minutes, before Dís turned away, wiping her eyes. Then a frown marred her face and she was turning back to face Thorin. The crack echoed around the room.

“That’s quite enough of that, Dís.” Bilbo wasn’t going to let anyone but him hit his intended.

“You idiot, you blundering idiot. How could you? They were my sons. My. Sons. And you took them off on that quest. You could have been killed. They could have been killed. How could you?” Emotions had obviously got the better of the Princess of the Blue Hills.

It wasn’t Thorin who put a stop to her ranted, but Bilbo.

“Dís! Enough! The boys are alive and almost well. You know your boys, there was no way Thorin was going to be allowed to leave them behind. If he had they would have just followed him and quite probably got into more trouble by themselves. As it was they got into enough without his help. Their injuries had little to do with Thorin, Fíli was protecting Kíli, sending him away from danger as much as he could. Kíli fell trying to reach Tauriel who was trying to reach him. Thorin was hurt taking the life of the two Orcs who tried to kill them. Right now they are both within yelling distance. Alive and working on your smial.”

“My what?”

“Your smial. Hobbit homes are called ‘Smials’. We’ve been building one for you. Just around the bend. The Raven’s Tree Smial will have offices for you, accommodation for you and any guests you may have, as well as a stabling area and pastures. The Company are building the outbuildings as hobbits don’t build above ground much, there’s to be room for ponies, horses and Dwalin reminded us that some dwarrow still use Rams, so we made sure of a space for them, too. Now that the smial-crafter have finished, Fíli, Kíli and Tauriel have taken over the inside of the smial and are doing a marvellous job of decoration and setup for you.” Bilbo explained as he pulled bowls and spices down from shelves.

“Thorin, dear. Please fetch me the flour, apples, some carrots, bacon, butter, eggs and sugar. I need to make some rolls, cakes, gingerbread, muffins and more scones for luncheon.”

“Yes, love.” Thorin without hesitation picked up a basket and left the kitchen.

Dís giggled.

“How do you do it? How do you get him just… do things?” She said between bouts of giggling.

“I know what he can make with the things he asked for. Bilbo’s cooking is superb.” Thorin muttered as he plonked the basket on the table and sat down.

“Superb? The scones were good, but… superb?”

“Oh, they weren’t Bilbo’s scones.” Thorin and Bilbo spoke at the same time.

“Tauriel’s learning to bake. They certainly better than my mother’s and almost as good as my Da’s, but I’ll admit that she’s still got a way to go to challenge me.”

“Challenge you? Bilbo, my love, Old missus Wheaten.” He paused and turned to Dís, “Missus Wheaten is Hobbiton’s bakery specialist. According to Missus Wheaten, nobody can challenge Bilbo’s scones, but she says that every so often someone wanted to try. It’s gotten to the point that the Thain holds a bake-off every year, I hear tell, and that only the winner get to challenge Bilbo, now.”

“Oh, you. Stop that nonsense. It’s silly. A bake-off, just to challenge me. Utter rot.”

A knock at the door turned out to be young Hamfast, asking if they wanted him to see to Dís’ pony. Thorin thanked him and fetched in her packs.

“Dís? Where are your guard? Please don’t tell me you snuck off without them? Again. Dís?” Thorin growled as he returned to the kitchen.

“Of course. They should know better that to try and stop me by now.”

“Dís.” Oh, how his sister exasperated him. Oh, how he loved her for it.

Bilbo had been mixing, kneading and slicing while the siblings talked and now he slid trays into the oven.

“It’s time the younglings come home for lunch. Thorin, if you would please?”

“Certainly.” Thorin got to his feet and out the front door. A moment later Dís heard him yell.

“Fíli. Kíli. Tauriel. Luncheon.” He came back inside to Dís giggling again and Bilbo nodding

“Yes. Every time.” Bilbo was saying.

“Every time what?” Asked Thorin.

“Never mind, dear.”

“Why do you came them younglings, Bilbo?” Dís directed her question at Bilbo.

“They are younglings. While Tauriel may be roughly 1350 years old, it wasn’t until she and Kíli started Courting that she was able to be a youngling. Her parents were killed when she was a young child and growing up in the Woodland Court was no place to be a child. Being with Kíli is giving her a chance to embrace her inner child. And, of course, Fíli, Kíli and Ori have only just reached their majority… Oh. Ah. You haven’t been told have you?”

“Told what? What now?”

“Seems Ori has decided not to wait any longer.”

“Ori? Wait any longer for what?”

“Ah. It seems there’s been a spate of Courting requests.”

“Ori? Courting? Little Ori?”

“I wouldn’t let Ori or Dwalin hear you call him that.”

“Ori and Dwalin? Dwalin? Our cousin Dwalin? Really?”

“Oh, yes. We’ve been waiting for it for a while. When we gathered arms in Erebor to fight the Orcs, Dwalin gave Ori Keeper to fight with. That when I knew for certain that Ori was his One.”

“Ori and Dwalin. That’s going to take a little getting used to.”

“Yes, well. I doubt that Bofur and Nori are that much of a surprise?”

“No, not really, brother.”

“Well, what about Balin and Oín?”

“Really? I suppose it fits?”

The smial door opened and there was a clatter of feet.

“Boots.” Bilbo reminded the younglings.

“Yes, uncle.” Fíli’s voice reached the kitchen soon followed by the rest of him. He froze in the doorway from the parlour.

“Fíli. Shove up.” Said Kíli trying to get past him, before he saw what caused his brother to stop. He too froze. Tauriel looked over their shoulder and her eyes widened when she saw who was in the kitchen. She looked from Dís to Thorin and back again. Obviously no one had thought to tell her they looked that much alike.

“Amad!” Both boys leapt at their mother.

“Now, now boys. Time for luncheon. You can show Dís the smial after lunch. Food now, bother your mother later.”


	15. The Wedding(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, wow. Only two more go to.  
> Spoilers in notes at End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shire Name Georgian Exquivalent  
> 2 Yule 22nd of December  
> Afteryule 23rd December to 21st January  
> Solmath 22nd January to 20th February  
> Rethe 21st February to 22nd March  
> Astron 23rd March to 21st of April  
> Thrimidge 22nd April to 21st May  
> Forelithe 22nd May to 20th June  
> 1 Lithe 21st June  
> Mid-year's Day 22nd June  
> Overlithe Leap day  
> 2 Lithe 23rd June  
> Afterlithe 24th June to 23rd July  
> Wedmath 24th July to 22nd August  
> Halimath 23rd August to 21st September  
> Winterfilth 22nd September to 21st October  
> Blotmath 22nd October to 20th November  
> Foreyule 21st November to 20th December  
> 1 Yule 21st of December
> 
> Fauntlings 3 – 10yrs  
> Faunts 11 – 20yrs  
> Tween 21 - 33yrs

**The Wedding(s)**

 

Watching Bilbo, Dís and Tauriel trot down Bagshot Row towards Hobbiton had Thorin shaking his head. Partially in disbelief and partially in regret.

The afternoon of her arrival saw Dís being shown around the new smial by not just her sons, but Tauriel and Bilbo, too. Thorin hadn’t been in the new smial since the smial-crafters had left and was stunned at the difference a week could make. In furnishing, decorating and stocking the smial, Tauriel, Kíli and Fíli had done a job worthy of the praise they received.

From that moment on, Tauriel, Bilbo and Dís could be found together at pretty much any time. They planned everything together. The first thing they planned was the new smial and it’s environs. For this they involved Holman Gamgee and his eldest son Hamfast. After whatever poor Hamfast saw through the window of Bag End, it took him _weeks_ before he could look either Bilbo or Thorin in the eye and it would be many more before he stopped blushing _bright_ red at any sign of affection between the two. Kíli and Fíli were dying to ask him what he’d seen, but they knew that the young hobbit would likely never be _able_ to say.

Within _two weeks_ of her arrival, the Three, as most of Hobbiton had taken to calling them, had _taken over the Shire_. They had set up a system of way-stations of faunts keeping a lookout for dwarrow caravans. Camping areas were set up at Waymeet, Bywater and on both sides of the Brandywine River at Stock. Somehow they’d roped in farmers and their families, each camping area would have a number of stalls where caravanning dwarrow could buy either produce or ready made meals. Rangers were housed in Stock ready to guide each caravan to Erebor, with a group of 3 older faunts per caravan to act as guides within the Shire. These faunts were usually Took’s or Brandybuck’s, with a smattering of Brown’s, Cotton’s, Wayfarer’s and March’s to round out the numbers.

After the Three had seen to the Raven’s Tree Smial and the dwarrow caravans their next challenge was Tauriel and Kíli’s wedding. The middle of Forlithe, nicely a month before Mid-Summer’s Day was decided on, with the first Stenday in Wedmath for Bilbo and Thorin’s Wedding. The Three had sent ravens to Erebor, Rivendell and Mirkwood informing Daín, Gwaihir, Elrond and Thranduil of the date for Tauriel and Kíli’s but had agreed that Thorin and Bilbo’s was **_not_** a political playground.

Fabric arrived from Erebor and Mirkwood for Tauriel’s wedding dress. Delivered by Meneldor, the Eagle scared half of Hobbiton into their Smials, but the fauntlings, faunts and tweens, as Bilbo had predicted, were in raptures with the giant bird, just as they were with the ravens. The young she-Eagle (Thorin finally decided that he needed to know her gender, so he could address her correctly, and asked) was given treats, and with their parents’ permission, gave rides to a few very brave hobbits, riding in a basket carefully held in her talons. Thorin lost a large wager with Fíli when Missus Goodchilde’s apprentice Joy was the first of a few adult hobbits to accept the Eagle’s offer of a view of Hobbiton from the skies. Kíli did point out that she clung to Fíli for the entire time. Thorin was waiting patiently for Fíli to ask them to make a Family Gift.

That night Bilbo told them Joy’s history.

 

Joy had been found stumbling about the woods near Bree by Missus Goodchilde and her late husband, Tomas, as a very young fauntling. They had taken the child to the rangers at Bree only to be told that the rangers had found her family’s wagon two days before. It had been attacked, probably by bandits or raiders. No one survived. As one of the women in the wagon had been wearing a dress using the same fabric and type of embroidery as the girl-child and no other child of her age was unaccounted for, the wagoneers must be her family.

A hobbit assembly was called and when the hobbits of Bree hesitated in taking the child, Missus and Mister Goodchilde insisted on keeping her and the Master of Buckland was sent notice. The child knew her name was Joy and how old she was but not her family name. When asked her Da’s name and where they came from all she would answer was ‘the fields’. By the time the Goodchilde’s were ready to leave Bree, word had come from Brandy Hall, the home of the Master of Buckland. Without concrete evidence he could not allow the Goodchilde’s to adopt the girl, but instead decreed that they would permanently foster her, just in case at some point in the future her family did reappear. She was an orphan and Bilbo stated that no family had yet to come forward to claim her.

This distressed Fíli so much that he went to Brandy Hall to talk to the Master. Upon returning he told the Three, Kíli and Thorin what the Master had to say.

Joy had reached her Majority a year earlier so the Master said that she would have the right to choose a Family and that her apprenticeship would, for the moment, make Missus Goodchilde the Head of her Family. Courtship issues must be taken up with her. At that point Fíli asked them to make a Family Gift so he could talk to Missus Goodchilde.

When this was announced in the group at supper, Tauriel and Dís nodded to Kíli, who got up from his seat and left the room. On returning to the room Thorin could see that he was pulling something. Instead of a low wagon, it appeared to be a timber chest, four drawers high, on wheels with a handle coming up from the top of the rear of the chest.

He stopped beside Fíli and proceeded to open the chest. First the top raised, then the next drawer slid forward and the bottom two drawers slid one to each side, leaving the framework visible. Each drawer was carefully padded and lined. The top drawer also held a selection of scissors, pins, various notions and measures. The second held clips, buttons and ribbons, the bottom two were full of spools of threads of different colours and gauges. In short everything a Master Tailor or Seamstress could desire.

“Oh, wow. You’ve made this? All of you?” Fíli was awed at the effort and work they’d put into it.

“Yes, we all put something in. Even Thorin, he just didn’t know it.” Commented Dís. Thorin looked more surprised than Fíli, to be honest. But he did recognise some of his own work. Clips, buttons and the catches and locks used to hold the chest closed. Dís went on to explain who had crafted what part of the item and assure Fíli that they, as a family supported his choice of lass.

Fíli was well aware that he would need the help of the Three to get a meeting with Missus Goodchilde without Joy in attendance.

Let the Plotting commence.

 

The day of Tauriel and Kíli’s wedding dawned bright and clear. Both Bag End and Raven’s Tree were full to capacity, with many guests forced to set tents in pastures and yards. Daín had arrived with Thranduil, and Beorn, Gwaihir, Meneldor and other Eagles offering safe passage. The night before the wedding, more Eagles arrived bearing Bard, of Dale, and his children, Bain, Tilda and Sigrid, the children so excited to see hobbits and far off places. Guests from Rivendell had decided to set up a camp of tents on the edge of Bindbole Woods and consisted of Elrond, Elrohir, Elladan, Lindir and Arwen (Elrond’s daughter). Staying with them would be Thranduil, Legolas, and surprising everyone, Galadriel and Celeborn from Lothorien.

Dwarrow from the Blue Hills stayed at the Bindbole Hall and hobbits from all across the Shire were attending.

The Party Tree was bathed in sunlight and glittered with the morning’s dew. Hobbits, Men, elves, dwarrow and a few Eagles watched on as Kíli stood restlessly at the base of the great tree. Thranduil and Legolas escorted Tauriel to join Kíli, his family and the wizard of the Istari. Her dress shimmered in the morning light, catching the sun and making her glow.

Kíli and Tauriel had decided that all cultures would be represented in their vows Men, Hobbit, Elf and Dwarf. Firstly they would braid their marriage beads in each others hair and be tied at the wrist. As per elven custom, they would be bound by rope made from the bark of the Mallorn Tree, the most sacred tree of the elves. Lastly they exchanged vows and rings in the manner of the Shire and Men. They even honoured the Eagles, but the closest they could manage to an exchange of feathers was to give the other a locket containing a lock of their own hair.

The following party lasted all day and well into the night, with much revelry and laughter. Dwarrow dancing with hobbits, men with elves and hobbits with anyone they felt like.

Just on sunset Thorin lead the newlyweds up Bagshot Row and past Bag End, but before they reached Raven’s Tree, he opened a gate set on the lower side of the Row and lead them down a slightly winding cobbled path. The path ended at a set of stone steps that extended onto a large-ish patio area fronting a nearly familiar smial entrance, only the green door was not round, but instead oval to serve Tauriel’s height.

Once inside the smial the entrance lead into a large brightly lit kitchen, dining room and parlour. To the west down a hall with a lower ceiling there was a bedroom suite, consisting of bathroom, dressing room, bedroom and attached sitting room. Both the sitting room and the bedroom opened onto another paved area, secluded from the access path and steps by a carefully planted trellis of fruit vines.

From entrance way into a hall to the east the ceiling height stayed elf-height, as did the rooms that mirrored those to the west. Everything in the east wing was elf-sized, windows and plants abounded, mostly chosen to satisfy an elf’s need for green things. All the furniture was carven timber polished to a high gloss sheen, the soft furnishings in muted shades of green and brown with highlights of gold and bronze.

Directly opposite the entrance hall, kitchen and dining room were pantries and a cold cellar. All the shelves in the pantry and cellar were stocked and a light mean waited to be served. The only thing the smial was missing were guest rooms. Thorin pointed this out to Kíli and said that if and when they needed extra rooms, be it guest rooms or rooms for children, they were approved to excavate both along and into the ridge. He also stated that he knew how much Kíli would miss Fíli and so Dís, Bilbo and Thorin had decided that to split the brothers would cause undue stress on both lads and had started planning this smial within days of Dís’ arrival. Construction had finished a week prior and Bilbo had rounded up his Took and Baggins’ families, lead by Lobelia, to furnish it suitable for an elf, two dwarrow and a hobbit.

For now it would be home to Tauriel and Kíli, but it was planned that Fíli would move in when Thorin and Bilbo wed, and then, when Fíli and Joy wed, she would join them in Jasmine Smial. As it was only a few moments walk to both Bag End and Raven’s Tree, any guests could stay in either of these smials.

Thorin hugged his nephew and niece, pressing his forehead to theirs and left them to investigate their new home. He was going back to the party to see if he could convince his burglar to leave early, as Fíli would be there until near dawn, and he wanted undisturbed time with Bilbo.

 

Bilbo and Thorin’s wedding was a very different affair. To the surprise of the attending hobbits it was _not_ held under the Party Tree, but rather under the cedar tree that had become known as the Raven’s Tree. It had been planted by his parents on the day of their marriage.

Gathered under the boughs of the cedar were the Company, Dís, Kíli and Tauriel, along with a smattering of hobbits. Mostly the Gamgee’s, but also Lobelia, Thain Fortimbras, young Drogo Baggins (Bilbo’s heir) and his intended bride, Primula Brandybuck. Fíli had asked if Joy would accompany him for the day, now that his Family Gift had been accepted and they were officially Courting.

Gandalf, of course, was to do the honours. Gandalf was accompanied by Radagast and Beorn. The Skin-changer had brought with him a gift that Bilbo was delighted with. Beorn gifted him with an oak seedling from his Garden, as Bilbo’s acorn had been placed carefully, with other memento’s from the company, in the sarcophagus that Thorin was to have been interred in. Somehow it had been lost when he was taken to the Thranduil’s Healing Halls and was not recovered. As soon as Beorn had arrived with the seedling Bilbo had asked the smial-crafters where on The Hill he could plant it and they had after much discussion decided on a spot. A hole was prepared and waiting for little oak.

After their vows and braids were completed, Dís hosted a dinner for the couple and their friends. When all present had eaten their fill, the Company declared that they would have to be off if they were to reach Bindbole Hall before dark. Bilbo and Thorin thanked them and all watched as the Company departed. While Fíli, Kíli, Tauriel and Joy moved Fíli’s possessions from Bag End to Jasmine Smial, Bilbo and Thorin climbed a set of nearly hidden stairs to the top of his smial and very carefully planted their oak seedling. With a final prayer to Yavanna and Mahal, the two made their way back inside.

For the first time they were completely alone and they planned to take advantage of their, finally, empty home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the arrival of Frodo  
> The last chapter fairly much starts at the begining of Fellowship of the Ring.  
> Where is goes from there.... Definitely SPOILERS!


	16. Memories of Frodo

**Memories of Frodo**

 

As he was surrounded Frodo’s arms held him, he looked out from the back of the wagon at the small white ship resting at anchor. Waiting to take him to Valinor. As he looked at that ship, memories of Frodo filled him. Snippets of time over the years. Laughter. Tears. Fear. Happiness. It was all there.

 

***

 

“Happy anniversary, Bilbo, Thorin. Thirty years. How wonderful!” Primula cried.

“Never mind her, Bilbo. Here hold the goblin while I see to the kettle.” Drogo laughed as he handed off the little bundle of energy in his arms. Frodo loved grabbing Uncle Bilbo’s braids, nearly as much as he liked pulling Uncle Thorin’s.

“Goblin? My goodness.” Bilbo exclaimed, “Are you really a goblin?”

Frodo shook his head.

“No? Are you sure?”

Nod.

“Hmm… Well, if you’re not a goblin, what are you? An Orc?”

Shake.

“A warg?”

Shake.

“Oh. Well, what about a Troll?”

Shake and a twitch of the lips.

“No? Hmm? A Balrog?”

Shake and a small smile.

“A Dragon?”

More shakes and a grin this time.

“No, you’re smiling, so you must be a Man?”

Shake and bigger grin.

“Hmm… No, huh? An Elf? A dwarf?

“No, Uncle Bilbo. I’m a Hobbit!” Frodo laughed, hugging Bilbo.

 

***

 

“Happy birthday, Frodo, my lad. 11 years old!” Bilbo laughed as Frodo sprang up with a happy cry. The faunt raced across the yard and jumped to wrap his arms around his Uncles. His favourite Uncles. They told the best stories and showed him the most amazing things. Jewels, gems, swords, maps, drawings. They had the most unusual visitors.

 

***

 

A banging on the door woke Thorin early one morning. Grumbling he stumbled out to answer it. Pimpernel Brandybuck stood there, pale and shaking.

“Master Thorin. I need to speak to Bilbo. Urgently. There’s, there’s been an accident… Please, Master Thorin?” The young hobbit was obviously upset.

“Come in, Pimpernel. I’ll get him, you sit down.” Thorin didn’t waste words.

Back in the bedroom, Bilbo had heard Thorin and given that Thorin really enjoyed a sleep in with his husband, Bilbo knew that it must be serious. He was half dressed by the time Thorin reached the door.

“Pimpernel is here. He said there’s been an accident. Wants to talk to you. I’ll dress and be out.” Thorin dropped a kiss on the back of Bilbo’s neck as Bilbo was bent over picking out his braces.

“Thank you, love.” Bilbo headed out to see what the problem was.

Pimpernel was sitting in the kitchen huddled up to the stove, shivering. Bilbo frowned. It was late spring and there had been a string of warm, barmy days. What would make the faunt shiver on a warm day?

“Pimpernel? Lad?”

The sandy-haired young lad jumped when he heard Bilbo’s voice and spun around on his stool. He looked at Bilbo and lunged for him, crying, sobbing.

“Easy, lad. What’s happened?”

“It’s Frodo. His Ma and Da went out in-a boat yesterday and didn’t come back. Dudo and Saradoc found them this morning. They’d, they’d washed up on the fjord. They’re dead! Bilbo, they’re not coming home. Frodo’s started screaming and no one can get him to stop. Please? Please can you come?” The lad was nearly hysterical.

“Bilbo you go put the kettle on and make a cuppa, while I get head to Raven’s Tree and get you Star. Don’t forget to grab something to eat. Once you’re away I’ll feed young Pimpernel here and then we’ll follow you.” Thorin didn’t do more than pause in the doorway and he was gone.

“Here, lad. It’ll be.. Frodo will be oaky. Eventually. A cup of tea will do us good and then, as Thorin said, I’ll head off. Is Frodo at Brandy Hall or at home?” Bilbo bustled around making a pot of tea as he quickly munched on a cheese scone. He’d barely poured the tea when Thorin came back.

“Kíli’s out front with Star and Dancer, he’ll go with you. Fíli is harnessing up Molly for me. Oh, Pimpernel, I took your pony up to the stable, Fíli will look after her for you, she’s near spent. We’ll see that you get her back when she’s recovered.” He moved past Pimpernel and Bilbo to get a scone of his own.

Bilbo added more milk to his tea and raised the cup to his lips, swallowing. He washed down the scone and laid a hand on Thorin’s arm. They shared a look and Thorin nodded. Bilbo went around the table and hugged Pimpernel.

“You eat something, you hear. Stay with Thorin, he’ll bring back to the Brandy Hall.”

“Yes, Bilbo. Da was going to try to bring Frodo back to the Hall, but don’t know if he’s done that yet.”

“That’s alright, lad. I’d have to go past the Hall to get to Frodo’s, so I’ll check there first.” Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to say Drogo’s name.

 

The ride to Brandy Hall was fast. Bilbo and Kíli’s ponies built for speed and endurance. They were descendants of Bilbo’s sweet Dove and their breeding showed. The two riders gave their ponies little respite on the crazy ride to the Brandywine River and Buckland.

Rounding the last bend before Brandy Hall, Bilbo saw young Merry Brandybuck and Pimpernel’s brother Pippin standing out on the road waving their arms frantically.

Star came to a halt of her own accord, her sides heaving. Bilbo was off her and in the gate reaching for the door before Kíli could react.

“Frodo!” Bilbo screamed.

“Unca Bilbo!” Frodo came running from a hallway. He pulled away from whoever was trying to hold him and lunged at Bilbo, wrapping his arms around the older hobbit and hanging on, sobbing.

 

 

***

 

“Frodo? Time to call Thorin for tea.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

 

***

 

“22 years old. Happy Birthday, lad. Your parents would be so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Uncle Bilbo.”

“Merry and Pippin are coming tonight aren’t they?”

“Yes, Uncle Thorin.”

 

***

 

“I’m so sorry, Uncle Bilbo. We’ll all miss Uncle Thorin.”

“Me too, lad, me too. Stubborn dwarf. I just wish he’d told me about the headaches sooner. Or Oín. Or anyone. Maybe if he had…”

“Are you really going to take him back to Erebor to bury him?”

“Yes, Frodo. Fíli, Kíli and Tauriel are going with me. Gandalf put a spell on his body so we have some time. With our birthday and your Coming of Age in less than a month, I’ve decided to wait until after that to take him home.” Bilbo took a deep breath and sighed. He’d thought that as dwarrow had a greater lifespan than hobbits, that he would be the one to pass first. But that was not to be. Stubborn dwarf.

 

***

 

Frodo entered Bilbo’s study with the days mail. Bilbo was leaning on his writhing desk, writing his red book. Frodo glanced at it as he reached over to place the mail on the shelf. A picture caught his eye.

“What’s this?” He grinned as he picked up the loose piece of paper. A young hobbit with wild hair looked back at him. A young Bilbo Baggins.

“That. Is private. Keep your sticky paws off!” Bilbo grabbed the drawing from him.

Frodo leant over to see what Bilbo had been writing.

“Hey! It’s not ready yet.” Bilbo closed the book.

Frodo turned away with a huff.

“Ready for what?”

“Reading!” Bilbo grumped.

 

***

 

Ker-Chunk! The Ring met the floor with a final sounding noise.

Bilbo hurried out the door, drawing a deep breath as he passed the out into the fresh air.

“I’ve thought up an ending for my book” He said. He turned and continued. “And he lived happily ever after… to the end of his days.”

Gandalf knelt down.

“And I’m sure you will, old friend.”

Bilbo put out his hand.

“Goodbye, Gandalf.”

Gandalf enclosed Bilbo’s and in both of his.

“Goodbye, dear Bilbo.”

Bilbo turned and made his way down his front steps, out the gate and into the night. Just across the bridge Fíli, Kíli and Tauriel were waiting for him. Waiting to take Thorin back to Erebor. To sleep with his forefathers.

 

***

 

Erebor had changed, it wasn’t the same place he remembered. He felt out of place, lost. It only took him a day to realise that he would never call Erebor home, no matter what Thorin had wanted. But neither was the Shire home now. Not without Thorin beside him. Thranduil offered him a place for as long as he wanted, but just the sight of the mountain drove him away.

Age began to catch up with him. Joints ached. Vision dimmed. A chest cold caught him as they descended from the Misty Mountains

Tauriel suggested that he stop in Rivendell with Elrond to recover.

 

***

 

“Bilbo!”

“Hello, Frodo, my lad.” They hugged.

 

***

 

“There and Back Again. A Hobbit’s Tale. By Bilbo Baggins.” Frodo smiled up at his uncle.

 

***

 

“The Elves..” Bilbo tuned out. “…last ship to leave middle earth.”

 

***

 

Bilbo looked at the white ship. It swelled in his vision until all he saw was white. Bright white. He felt…odd. Odd and then nothing. The white took him.


	17. Re-United

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter.  
> It's a real short one.

**Re-United**

 

He was cold.

Cold and stiff.

Cold and stiff and hungry.

Bilbo opened his eyes. Hmm. Stone. A cavern, then. But where? A sound off to his left caught his attention. He turned his head to look.

A door.

A round door.

A round, green door.

Just like Bag End. It swung open.

Well, only one way to find out what was going on and that was to get up and look for yourself.

Bilbo slid his legs off the side of whatever-it-was that he’d be lying on. There was no pain, no aches. He looked at his hands. They were young hands. His hands again, the hands he remembers.

Standing he made his way to the door, he looked through and saw…

Well, he certain wasn’t expecting to see dwarrow. _His_ dwarrow.

Oín, Balin and Ori. Sitting down to a _feast_.

They grinned and cheered. A figure between them and Bilbo stood and turned.

“ ** _Thorin_**!” Bilbo ran to him, flung his arms around his dwarf. Thorin looked just as he did the first time they met.

So young.

So Strong.

So... ** _His!_**

“Bilbo, givashel. Come meet the rest of my family.” Thorin turned Bilbo in his arms.

Oh, sweet stars, there were dwarrow **_everywhere!_**


End file.
